Silent Secrets
by xxxfire-feariexxx
Summary: Voldemort has won. Ginny, prisoner of war, is enslaved to a reluctant Draco Malfoy as an eighteenth birthday gift. She silently harbors a dark secret, and Draco is intent on discovering the secret that could either save or damn the wizarding world.
1. Like a Phoenix Rising Out of the Ashes

AN: This is the first story I have uploaded in over two years. I am attempting to write in stream of consciousness, so I know that at first it won't make sense, especially when reading from Ginny's point of view, and I purposely ignored grammar and sentence structure rules for my own purposes. As the story goes on, Ginny's parts will become easier to read and make more sense. Also, this story is rated M for a reason. There is violence, blood, and adult themes. If you are not mature enough to read it, then please don't.

Summary: Voldemort and his Death Eaters have won, and the wizarding world is in chaos. Ginny Weasley, prisoner of war, is enslaved to a reluctant Draco Malfoy as a gift for his eighteenth birthday. However, Ginny harbors a dark secret kept silent by a spell that makes her mute. Draco is intent on discovering the secret that could either save or damn the fragmented wizarding world.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. The plot and any other characters not belonging to Harry Potter are my own, and any resemblance to other plots on this website is coincidence. I may use lyrics later on in this story (if I can get away with it without getting in trouble), but these songs are not my own and I will put the name of the song and the author at the beginning or end of the chapter.

And now, onto the story. Enjoy, and please review if you want, flame or praise.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

There was no time here. The hours blended into days, the days into weeks, the weeks into months. She wasn't sure how long she had been here. She had no sunlight to measure the days by. In fact, the only light they ever had was from the candles. And nobody wanted to see _that_ light. That light meant they were coming to take one of them. Sometimes it was her. Sometimes it was someone else. When they came for her, she went quietly. She no longer had the will to scream like the others. Not that she could.

When they came, they took her to a small room. Stone walls, stone floor, stone ceiling. All she saw anymore was stone. She didn't remember the sight of the sun, the smell of the air, the feel of the rain. She only knew stone, cold stone, and pain, sharp, hot pain. They had many ways of inflicting pain. The stone walls and table and floor were covered in torturous devices, some she had experienced, others she was glad she hadn't. If she could even feel glad anymore. She wasn't sure.

They tried to make her talk. They dunked her head in foul tasting water and held it there until her world went black. They whipped her until there was no unmauled skin on her body. They held her hand in a fire, demanding that she speak. They dunked her naked body into freezing cold water. They tried to make her talk, but no matter what they did, she would not speak. She could not speak.

She wanted to. Her silence was not Gryffindor bravery or pride or strength. She tried many times to tell them what they wanted. So she could die. But she could not speak. She tried to scream, but no sound came out. She tried to beg, but her voice was useless.

Eventually they stopped torturing her. They locked her up in her own stone cage. She wasn't sure how long she stayed in that cell, but it felt like a millennium in Hell. Sticky blood coated the walls. The smell of piss reeked from the corner. Screams could be heard all around her. There was no bed or loo, not that she cared for such frivolities anymore. Her clothes had deteriorated to practically nothing. She was fed every so often, stale bread and water. Most of the time she didn't eat it, but when the pain became unbearable, she did. She wished they had stopped feeding her. She wished she could die.

But that was not to be her fate.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

"Well why the hell won't she speak?!" roared Lucius Malfoy. The two men cringed. One was a short man with balding brown hair and a round stomach. The other was tall and built, with dark eyes and matching dark hair and a Hispanic accent. They were new to Voldemort's ranks, and the pawn scum of higher ranking members such as Malfoy himself. He was annoyed that the Dark Lord had put him in charge of such a pathetic crew of motley men, chosen to weed out the few remaining Order members and their whereabouts. Currently they were discussing the youngest Weasley, who had been captured a year and a few months ago, in the hopes that she would have insider information on the Order's hideout. Unfortunately, she was mute, and the Weasley situation was really starting to piss him off by now.

"Sir, we've tried. We've tortured her. We've beaten her. We've done everything short of raping and killing her." Lucius glared at them.

"And why didn't you do that?!" The two men glanced at each other.

"Mister Malfoy, quite honestly…she reeks. She's thin and disgusting and practically dead. She never even protests or puts up a fight when we torture her. And she's not exactly what I would call aesthetically pleasing…"

Lucius sighed in exasperation and ran his thin, white hands through his long hair. "It does not matter. We torture, we rape, we kill. End of story. She is taking up space and has done nothing to help us in our leads. We must find the rest of the order members," he slammed his fist on the table, making the men jump in fear, "or else the Dark Lord will have our heads, do you understand?"

The other man spoke up. "Well, we could just kill her. As you said, she is wasting space, and our men don't even bother to beat her anymore. She obviously can't speak. We've researched her, done tests on her, examined her. We believe she is under a spell of some sort, obviously Old Magic, because we cannot trace the origin."

Lucius muttered under his breath and took a swig of his Firewhisky. He welcomed the burning sensation the sharp, hot liquid left in his throat. He sat back in his leather backed chair, staring around the polished, antique office. The Death Eater ran his hands along the armrest of his chair. "Did you perhaps think…" he said slowly, as if in annoyance, "to make her write? Yes or no questions? Some other form of communication. A Truth Serum, for Merlin's sake!"

The small, balding man nodded his head furiously. "Yes! We tried everything. We attempted to make her write, and she did! She wrote her name, her age, her family member's names, but as soon as we told her to write her secret, to tell us everything she knew about the Order and its members, well…." He stopped, looking thoroughly perturbed.

"Well?" Lucius asked, annoyed. He lifted a perfectly thin, blonde eyebrow.

The taller man cleared his throat. "It exploded…" He too trailed off.

Lucius Malfoy sat up, staring at them in confusion. He rested his elbows on the desk, folded his hands, and settled his chin onto his knuckles, deep in thought. "Exploded?" Malfoy asked, as if seeming unconvinced.

"Burst into fire. The paper, the quill, the ink bottle…her hand. It all caught on fire. She seemed just as confused and frightened as we were. I don't think she honestly knows there is a spell on her. Certain parts of her memory have most likely been erased to prevent her secret from being told. What we do know is she's not speaking anytime soon, and we honestly think the best course of action would be to dispose of her to make room for more suspects."

Lucius shook his head and stared at the top of the table in deep thought. His eyebrows knitted together as the wheels turned in his head. "No, no, that would not be wise. Nobody would go to such lengths to keep her quiet unless she knew something dire, something important. But you're correct, she is wasting space and money and time. The Dark Lord is beginning to get annoyed with our lack of information…" He sighed, pausing in contemplation, and the men knew to stay quiet. A small smirk appeared on his face and malicious intent grew in his eyes. "No, boys…I think I have a better idea."

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Ginny Weasley sat with her back to the wall, her arms folded around her thin body and her head resting between her legs. She sat like this when she wanted to block out the screams and the cries for help. She pretended she could not hear the pleas in the rooms all around her. Ginny was finally dozing to sleep when light invaded her vision. She lifted her head ever so slightly, out of curiosity mainly, and had to hold her hand up against the bright shine of the candle that nearly blinded her. It invaded the darkness she had seen for so long, shone into all corners of the room, revealed the blood and stone she did not want to know was there, and finally showed a tall, familiar looking man before her. The girl squinted and covered her eyes and cowered against the wall, hoping they would just leave, but she knew it wasn't so. Maybe they had finally come to kill her. She could only anticipate that was the reason. Ginny heard the sound of boots stepping up to her and the light shone on her, forcing her to roll into a small ball in self-defense. They had taken away her blanket of darkness and protection and invaded it with their cruel light and perfumy smells. The prisoner felt a foot kick her in the side and she fell over with a small thud.

"Pathetic…Disgusting…Foul. I can see why you didn't want to rape her. If I even had to touch such a thing I would gag."

She cringed, hearing the word 'rape'. No! In all her time here, not once had they done that! Not now, not now. She lost everything, her family, her home, her life, her beauty, her voice, her dignity. At least there was one thing they could leave her with, and that was her virginity. Her virginity, it was all she had left from her life!

"I refuse to touch that thing until it is clean. Take her back to my mansion. Hand her over to Slave Number One and give her these detailed directions." He handed the men a letter. "And boys…do _not_ touch my slaves again without my permission." With that, the familiar man turned on his heel and left, and as she watched him go, Ginny realized who it was. Lucius Malfoy.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Alexandria sang lightly as she cooked. She loved to sing. She was not well educated, had only spent three years in Hogwarts, she was not mannered or beautiful, but the girl could do one thing perfectly, amazingly, wonderfully, and that was sing. She currently was singing and heating the left over dinner for her and the other slaves. It was quite a large meal, the Malfoys always had extra food, seeing as they insisted on seven course meals daily, and despite the fact that the Malfoys owned over twenty slaves, not including their house elves, she knew it would be enough food to feed them all. That was one advantage of being a slave for the Malfoys; everyone got fed, everyone got a bed. As long as you did your work, you were pretty much left alone. Mistress and Master Malfoy did not have enough time to waste on the slaves, being members of Lord Voldemort's new government and all. The only time the slaves were ever given attention, good or bad, was when the Malfoys had guests over.

Guests! She had almost forgotten! Tomorrow was Mister Malfoy's, that was, Master Malfoy's son, birthday party! The food would be magnificent and the slaves, if they were good, could serve at the party. She loved to serve at parties. Master Malfoy's regular guests often requested her to sing or wait on them and it was so thrilling to sing before such a large crowd. But she had heard from the Top Slave, Miss Maya, that there was going to be a grand surprise at the party tomorrow. Alexandria wondered what it was with excitement.

The thing about Maya was, as soon as you thought of her, she seemed to pop up right behind you. She was a good leader for the slaves. She worked at a steady but efficient pace, controlled with an air of righteous rule, and was respected by all of the slaves. She took care of all of the slaves, down to the youngest or slowest one, whether they were ill or hurt or depressed. Even Lucius Malfoy, known to be cold and indifferent to his slaves, treated her with respect and, in private, called her by her real name and not just her number. Mistress often called on her for company and Mister Malfoy trusted only her with his laundry. All in all, she was the most respected and loved of all the slaves, by the masters as well as the other slaves. She was like a mother to them all.

Well, she had done it again, popped up behind Alexandria without warning, that is. Maya moved with a slow, quiet pace and one didn't notice her until she spoke, her voice commanding yet comforting.

"Alex," she addressed the girl. Somehow Alexandria had come into the Top Slave's graces. She had practically been adopted by the woman. Alex jumped ten feet in the air, or at least, she felt like it. She turned to Maya, nodding and grinning like a fool. "Maya, what's up?!" The other slaves glared at her. None of them had the guts or the right to address Maya so informally and friendly, but the woman only smiled.

"I need you, quickly. Let Jasmine take over the cooking, and make sure she leaves enough for three, we're going to be working late into the night tonight." Alex immediately noticed her small frown and felt the worry and upset resonating off of the older woman. She nodded and handed Jasmine the spoon, running to catch up with Maya, who had already begun walking away at her quick but steady pace.

"Okay, Maya, I saw your face back there. What's so urgent? Did some of Mister Malfoy's presents get lost? Did an owl not show up? Are the decorations or food not ready?" The older woman merely shook her head and continued walking quietly. Alex followed without saying a word, knowing it best to let Maya think and contemplate whatever was on her mind. They wound through the marble halls quietly, their modest shoes clicking on the floors, until Maya stopped, just outside of the slave quarters. Alex looked at her with confusion, lifting an eyebrow.

Maya did not open the door but merely stood there, worrying her bottom lip. Alex knew something was terribly wrong to get the calm woman so worked up.

After five long minutes the woman finally spoke. "There's a new slave…but…this one's different. She's an aftermath of the war, many of us are, but she…she's been through a lot. I can see it in her eyes. The men said Master Malfoy brought her from the torture chambers of Azkaban."

Alex shuddered. Azkaban was no longer where murderers were sent to live out the remainders of their lives. No, Lord Voldemort owned it now and it was the sight of thousands of torturous, cruel deaths. Only Order members and their families were sent there. She felt sorry for the poor woman. To be a victim...the horror stories from Azkaban were sick and frightening and Alex knew she would die in such a place.

"She's a last minute birthday gift for Mister Malfoy. A slave of his own, and most likely his future mistress."

Alexandria's eyes widened. She knew, despite her poor education, that a mistress was just a nice name for a personal whore. Not that she felt all too bad for the girl on that note. Draco Malfoy was beautiful and rich, and any of the slave girls would die to share his bed for just one night. However, it was as if the boy had no libido whatsoever. He showed no interest in his future wife, Miss Parkinson, not that Alex could blame him, she was uglier than a dog and most definitely a whore. His parents and many of the slaves often wondered if he was gay and if it had not been for the Playwizard magazines Alexandria found when cleaning his rooms, she would have believed so too. However, her thoughts were drawn away from the sexy Draco Malfoy and an erotic Playwizard magazine (that she had actually opened and stared at with wide eyes, surprised when she suddenly felt a tightening in her lower abdomen, for she certainly was straight, or so she thought) when Maya spoke again.

"We have to clean her up for the party tomorrow. She looks sick. She's very thin and covered in blood and she smells horrible. I wouldn't have chosen you to help me if I didn't think your stomach could handle it. Besides, she's around your age, and seeing another teenager might calm her down…the poor thing is hysterical." Maya closed her eyes and took a deep breath, as if steadying herself. "Alright now, let's go in. She's been waiting in there for almost ten minutes. I don't want her hurting herself, though I doubt she can stand. Oh…and she doesn't speak, so don't press her to, got it Alex." The older slave looked at her with a pointed expression.

Alexandria saluted and grinned. "I can handle a little blood, and if she doesn't whine or cry, who's complaining?"

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Ginny was confused. Everything was so...so…bright here. The rooms glowed with unnaturally bright candle light that hurt her eyes. The walls were no longer cold red stone. No…they were...warm. Warm to the touch. And they were a light yellow color…Yellow. She remembered that color. The color of the sun, of flowers, of warmth. The floor, it was warm and porous and clean. There were lines running all through it and it changed in color from light to dark browns and back. Wood. Yes. She remembered wood. She hadn't felt wood in so long. And a window. There was a window here. It frightened her to look out of. There was sky and stars and a tree outside of this window. Things she had not seen in so long. She stared at the tree in wonder and it moved, making a light rustling sound, and waved its leafy branches towards her in greeting. She shrank away from it. She did not like these bright things. These moving things. They scared her. All she knew was her stone prison, her windowless cell with one stone door and iron bars. She knew dry, old blood and screams of horror and pain and darkness.

And there was more, so much more. More frightening things. A sink, yes, a sink, and she knew, she knew if she turned the handle that water would come out of the sink and spill along her hands and wash them clean of the layers of dirt and grime and how her body longed for it and how her mind feared it. No. She did not want to see the color of her skin. She did not want to see her body not covered in its protective shell of filth and dirt and blood. Such a thought scared her. To be so exposed, so open to the air.

But her eyes were drawn away from the sink, such a strange word, to above it, a shiny piece of glass. And in the glass a picture, a picture of a room with cheery beige walls and a window and wooden floors. A mirror. Yes, a mirror. It reflected the room and everything in it, but not her. No, she was crouched on the floor in a tight ball where the mirror could not see her and gaze at her with pity and contempt and sickening disgust and show her what she had become. She was not sure which she was more afraid of, seeing what she was now, after so long in her prison, or knowing for a fact, for truth, that she was human, she was alive, that she was not resting peacefully in her grave with her family.

No! She mustn't think of them! Thinking of them, it brought the creature back. The horrid black, ghouly creature with red eyes. The creature, it resided in her, and whenever she thought of her parents, her brothers, the death, the destruction, the war, it clawed its way up from deep down in her chest. It clawed at her lungs and ribs and tried to claw its way out of her belly and eat her alive. And it hurt, it hurt so much. She knew this creature was not a figment of her imagination, no, it was real! She could feel its sharp claws puncturing her lungs, squeezing them tight, pressing the air out, until she could not breathe anymore. She could feel it grab her heart, hold it tight in its claw, and puncture it with sharp nails, making it bleed. The only way to fight down the bile rising in her throat was to block out any images, ignore it, ignore their screams, their pleas for mercy, as she watched helplessly from her hiding place under the floorboards, watch as they closed in on her mother and force her to the ground and…

She began heaving. Nothing came out but air and blood and a little bit of water, but still her body heaved and her stomach churned and she pressed her hands against her ears and began to rock back and forth, puking nothing onto her clothes, because there was nothing, nothing in her to come out, she was empty except for her monster and…

And then the door opened.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

The first thing that hit Alex was the stench. It smelled of blood and puke and piss and so many other things she did not want to imagine. The next thing she noticed was the blood covered corpse on the ground. It was white, so white, under the blood that was, and all of the skin was covered in blood. The hair was thin and limp and caked with blood and dirt. The corpse wore something that resembled a sack. She assumed whatever it wore was once clothes, a dress by the looks of it, though the original shape and color had been lost to time and dirt and blood. It was ripped and torn and worn so thin she could see through it to the ugly, deep, red scars beneath. The corpse had thin arms and legs, thinner than the legs of the kitchen chairs. She could not see the face, for it lay curled in a ball with its back to her, but she was thankful for that. The corpse it looked…

Wait…she saw it move, twitch ever so slightly, and then she noticed it was shuddering and rocking back and forth no more than a few centimeters, as if it had no energy to move more than that. It was not a corpse at all, but an actual live human being. She clamped her hand over her mouth and breathed deeply through it, holding back the stench and calming her stomach. There was no way, no way that…thing was alive. It looked as if it had been six feet under for over a year now. The thought that a human could suffer through so much and still be breathing, if only barely, was astounding and horrifying to her.

She wanted nothing more than to run screaming from the room. The thought of spending another second here with this dead, yet moving, corpse terrified her. But she knew Maya, knew the woman would be disappointed and ashamed of her, especially when a fellow slave was in such need of help. She swallowed deeply and followed Maya into the room. The older slave was already crouched down beside the thing, stroking it, but this only made it shudder and rock more.

"I don't-" she lowered here voice for fear of scaring or breaking it, "think you should touch it-her. She looks frightened…What is her name?"

Maya looked up at her sadly. "They said her name is Ginny. Weasley. The last survivor of the Weasley family." She sighed. "That family did so much to help the Order." Maya shook her head. "No, we must be quiet; we're not allowed to speak of that. She needs to be bathed, but I do not want to frighten her more."

Alex nodded and kneeled next to the girl. Now she knew why Maya had chosen her. Not only was she the closest in age to the thing…girl…she had a calming, warm affect on people. She wasn't sure why. Alexandria was known for being a bubbly, cheerful, hyper and very excitable person, yet people were naturally attracted to that sunlight in her. However…this girl looked as if she had just come out of the depths of Hades. She wondered if too much warmth and sunlight wouldn't scare it. So she calmly leaned over the girl, breathing through her mouth, and stroked her cheek softly, whispering her name.

"Ginny…Ginny…shhhh…We are not going to hurt you. We're your friends. Friends. We're going to take care of you. Shh…" Maya nodded and began to run the bathwater. The girl shuddered at the sound. "It's okay…we're just going to clean you up. We're going to take care of you. Friends. Friends, Ginny. Please trust us. We're friends." The shuddering slowly stopped and the creature went still. If she could not feel the slight pulse through her hand she would have thought it died right there.

Maya lifted the girl up easily, cradling her like a child, her face hidden against her clothes. "Blow out some of the candles. I think she's just going into shock. All of the light and movement and sound are probably scaring her." Alex did as she was told and turned her back politely as Maya removed what little scraps of clothes were left on the corpse and lowered her into the warm water. "You can turn around. God, she's covered in blood. The water is already filthy."

Alex turned and forced her stomach to, once again, calm itself. The thing had its head down, hiding behind its hair, and the bubbly warm water around it was red. She kneeled down beside the bathtub and leaned over to look at its face but Maya put a hand on her shoulder, shaking her head.

"Leave her face alone for now. Just clean." She did as she was told. This was one of the times when she missed her magic, wish she had it back, even if she didn't know very many spells. The stench and filth were horrid and the layers of grime and blood seemed to be never ending. She was excited when she finally found pale, paper-white skin. They filled up and emptied the tub at least five times and scrubbed the girl from head to toe. Ginny slowly began to look more and more human, if not deformed and alien. She was thin, so thin her ribs bulged noticeably, and her head resembled more of a dirty mop than hair atop a skull. She was covered in so many scars from numerous different torturous weapons and some bled freely when Maya had to tear the cloth out of the scabbed-over wounds. It was torture, both physical and emotional, to sit there cleaning such a sad, pitiful, pathetic creature.

It was amazing and frightening at the same time. Cleaning the girl slowly, washing away all of her blood and dirt and exposing her wounds and pale skin underneath was like seeing a Phoenix be reborn from its ashes. The corpse-like girl sat shivering in the tub in the fetal position like a newborn baby being cleaned from its mother's fluids. She felt a sudden affectionate, maternal love and protection for the girl that overwhelmed and surprised her.

Finally, all was clean but the face, and she reached up with a cloth, singing lowly. Her music had calmed the girl, she noticed, and her voice hurt from singing quietly for over an hour, but she ignored the pain as she cleaned the face off slowly, careful not to force it up. Maya said eye-contact would only scare it more and so she let the thing stare down at the water as she cleaned.

"Ginny," she whispered, her voice light, "We're done. You're clean. Come out of the water. We'll dry you off and give you clothes to wear." The child obeyed silently, for which Alexandria was thankful, and leaned on her as Maya dried her body. Ginny seemed too weak to even stand and she shivered violently, despite the warmth and steam in the room, so they dressed her quickly and efficiently in Alex's pajamas.

She could see the girl drifting off to sleep and knew she must be exhausted. She wondered the last time Ginny slept on a bed, the last time she bathed, the last time she ate. Alex was too curious now. She had to know. Had to know what the face looked like. According to the accounts she had heard of the Weasley family, she had never had the privilege of meeting one in person before the family was brutally massacred, they all had red hair, tanned skin, and numerous freckles. Most of the boys were tall and the women short and curvy. However, with the exception of the mop of red hair, the girl looked nothing like the descriptions.

The temptation was overwhelming her. Alexandria reached a hand under the chin and lifted the face up. Ginny did not protest, and she knew, even if she wanted to, the girl was too weak. Alex brought the face up until it looked into her own. Bony cheeks, sunken eyes, dark circles. Thin, torn, chapped lips and a small nose. Alex felt as if she were looking into the face of death, seeing the affect of a year in Hell. The face of a fallen, tortured angel. No. Ginny had not fallen of her own accord. This was the face of…an innocent, broken, dead soul.

Then, the eyes opened. And as Alex stared into the dull, lifeless, unfocused brown eyes, she knew what death, pain, suffering, looked like.


	2. Draco's Gift

A/N: Okay, so, I got lots more reviews and positive feedback on the first chapter than I was expecting (as in, I was expecting nada). I was completely surprised when I got 6 reviews within just twenty-four hours of posting the first chappie. So, needless to say, I'm very excited about this story and where it is going! I've also decided, since so many people told me to update soon, that I will try to update weekly, thus, I present to you the second chapter.

I was considering doing replies to everyone's reviews individually, but I'm not really sure what I would say besides thank you, and besides, I don't really have the time or patience to reply to everyone. However, if somebody does ask a specific question that I think others might have, I'll answer it in the next chapter. Instead of replying to everybody individually, I'll just give one large thank you to everyone who reviewed to this story and please ask them to continue reading and review again. And if you have a question, comment, or idea you would like to see in the story, please let me know and I will answer it (question) or consider putting it in the story (comment or idea). Thank you!

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Draco wandered amongst the guests at his birthday party, a fake smile plastered on his face. He had spent hours preparing for the party, dressing in his most immaculate clothes, washing his hair until it shone, covering the dark circles under his eyes with magic powder that most witches used for their pimples. In the end, her looked perfect, imposing, and commanding in his black dress robes, his now chin-length, silver hair greased back flawlessly and his white teeth shining from his arrogant, cool smirk.

But Draco was anything but happy as he greeted all the proper guests, lingering just long enough to make small talk, assure that his presence was known, and moving on to the next group. The turnout for his eighteenth birthday party had, of course, been monstrously huge. The entire parlor, over a hundred square feet of marble floors, ceiling, and walls decorated with numerous expensive tapestries, paintings, curtains, a grand piano, multiple dark cherry wood tables, and a giant chandelier, was so crowded with people standing around in groups that, had a person not nearly as graceful or important as Draco found themselves inside, they would have been lost amongst the expensive fabrics of women's dresses and men's robes. And the party was reserved for only Voldemort's highest ranks and their families.

Draco's words left his mouth without thought, his tone and facial expressions changing on queue automatically. Any other day he would be silently mocking all of the money the women spent on their dresses and the great lengths they took to make their hair flawless. Once upon a time he would have rolled his eyes as men boasted their manliness to one another and made crude jokes and innuendos as they eyed the prettier women amongst the guests, ignoring their wives. Had it not been his eighteenth birthday party he would have had to force himself not to glare at women as they gossiped about the less dressed or lower class girls, or he would have to prevent a cringe as girls his age (and some that were younger or much older than his age) flirted shamelessly with him.

But today was his eighteenth, and Draco was much too absorbed in his mind to bother with any of this. Nobody noticed, of course, he had been taught from birth to control his emotions and only show what they wanted to see, but deep down inside, in the depths of his soul that was only explored, but not even fully known, by one other person, Draco Malfoy was really, truly, completely shaking in fear. For tonight, Draco would receive his mark, and within the year he would have to prove to everyone he was valuable enough to be a great Death Eater amongst his father and other high ranking men and women.

Draco spotted his best friend across the crowd of people. Blaise Zabini spoke quietly to some younger girls as they fawned over him. The darker boy was dressed plainly but elegantly in a white, crisp dress suit, standing out amongst his dark, exotic skin. The boy had soft eyes and an even softer voice. Unlike Draco, he easily controlled his temper and was not quick to anger. The two boys had been friends since their childhood, and only Blaise new Draco's innermost feelings and faults. The boy looked up at him, feeling his eyes, and winked softly, excusing himself from the girl's flirting, to their disappointment.

Draco and Blaise were notoriously known for their lack of interest in girls. Many members of the wizarding world wondered if the two boys were not secretly involved in a quiet, romantic relationship, which only fed the flames of lust women had for them. Gossip surrounded the two wherever they went and women made bets over who would get into their beds first, but ever since Lucius's announcement of his engagement (of which Draco had never consented), and the scandal surrounding the Zabini Family, at least some of their school members had stopped their useless pursuits, to the boys' reliefs.

Blaise stopped before Draco, smiling at him. "Enjoying your party, dear friend?" He asked, his head cocked to the side and a knowing, sad gleam in his eyes. Draco merely glared at him as he nodded curtly to a lower Death Eater passing by.

"Ecstatic. I can't wait to feel the burning on my arm of his-" but he was cut off by a sharp glance from his friend. Draco shut his mouth quickly and turned to see his father making his way to him through the crowd. A glance at the clock confirmed that it was time for Draco to receive his party gifts, from his parents, at least, as their was simply not enough time to open all of the gifts piled high on a table in the corner of the room.

The crowd hushed as his father stood before him, smiling proudly at his son, for show more than anything. Draco lifted his head arrogantly and gazed coolly, but respectively, at his father, who lifted a glass in his direction and began his short speech.

"Firstly, my honored guests, I thank you for attending my son and heir's eighteenth birthday. My wife Narcissa," his mother nodded her blonde head silently to the guests, "and I are honored to have such a magnificent son. As you are all well aware, our son will be receiving his Mark tonight as he is welcomed into our Dark Lord's ranks. A round of applause!"

Draco smiled as he was meant to and held his head arrogantly high with feigned pride as the crowd clapped and cheered him on. "Now, we will give our son his gifts before the ceremony. Slaves!" There was a scuffle as some of the slaves came before Draco, bowing at the waists, and holding out his gifts. He took them without a thank you, again for show, and sat in a chair as his father motioned him to, opening the first gift slowly for show. Draco looked amongst the crowd for Blaise, but the boy had slipped silently into the shadows, a feat he accomplished well. The oohs and ahhs from the crowd brought his eyes down to the gift and he smiled a small, genuine smile and thanked his mother politely as he held up his gift: A shining, silky, green cloak. He ran his hands along the cloak and it felt like water as it fell around his legs in a fluid motion, making them vanish before his eyes.

Draco gently placed the invisibility cloak back in its box and moved on, unwrapping his father's gift warily. In his hands he held a foreign broom unlike one he had ever seen. He ran his handle along the dark, polished wood, felt the stiff, yet silky bristles, weighed the broom in his hands, and it seemed no heavier than air. The boy frowned at it and glanced at his father questioningly, who smirked arrogantly as he announced in that conceited drawl of his, "It is the newest, fastest broom on the market, Il Fulmine, The Flash of Lightening. It's foreign made, from Italy, and faster than even The Firebolt. It cost hundreds of Galleons, but let us not boast. What do you think, son?"

Draco nodded at his father and forced a tight smile onto his face. "I am most excited, father. Thank you." However, the blonde boy was torn. He knew his father. He knew that the man would not just buy him a broom for his birthday, no matter if it was the newest model or not. No, his father, notorious for being one of the richest, if not _the_ richest, wizards in England, Voldemort's right hand man, Death Eater leader, would not merely buy him a broom, his father would want a grand show, a performance of the Malfoy Family's power, wealth, and prestige. Draco mentally braced himself for whatever his father had to throw at him, for he was sure it would be dramatic and flamboyant and possibly harmful to many lives.

Draco was not disappointed, though he wished he were. For not a few minutes later, after the crowd had ogled over his parents' expensive gifts, his father made a gesture towards the door. "And now, for our son's final present, and a grand, intriguing, amusing gift if I do say so myself." Draco did not miss his mother's confused glance at his father. So she did not know, though Draco was not surprised. His mother and father did not speak often, if ever. Draco turned his head towards the heavy doors as he heard them open, and along with the rest of the crowd, he stared.

In the doorway stood Ginny Weasley.

Draco recognized her immediately from the red hair that fell around her shoulders in soft curls. However, if it were not for this trademark of the Weasley family, he probably would not have known who she was.

She had changed so much since Hogwarts. She was just as short as he remembered her, if not shorter, and extremely thin, to the point that she appeared breakable. Her hair was dull and limp and Draco knew it would not have looked as clean and shiny and curly if it were not for multiple different magical potions scrubbed into it, for he used the same potions himself this evening. Magical makeup attempted to cover the dark circles under her eyes, and though it probably fooled most everyone in the room, Draco knew the look of such sleepless nights. Her breasts, which he remembered to be full and round at school (not that he had looked at them), had shrunk until they appeared no larger than a young girl's ample chest as she began puberty. Her cheeks were sunken, her hip bones jutted out, and the bones of her arms were clearly visible.

The girl's brown eyes were large compared to her thin face, and they gazed around the room with a look of fright and trepidation of the people around her, who stared at her and muttered and gossiped. Draco could see the panic easily on her face as she cast her gaze to the floor, as if the cold marble somehow blocked out the bright lights of the large, diamond chandelier and the harsh words of the crowd. On her arm, guiding her towards him, was one of the younger slaves, a girl a few years younger than Draco himself, and she appeared to be protecting the red-head as she brought her further into the crowd.

Draco could understand why. He wasn't sure if the Weasley would bolt like a frightened faun or merely curl into a ball and begin rocking back and forth. It was obvious that she was terrified of the Death Eater's staring at her, and her attire did nothing to help. The red-head was scantily clad in a black bra and underwear of some silky material. Hanging from a metal chain at her hips was a knee-length black, see-through skirt, the slits cut up to where the material met her underwear. Simple black heels were overlooked by the huge, metal shackles on her ankles that were linked together by a thick chain. The same shackles and chains adorned her wrists and neck, obviously weighing her thin body down as her shoulders were hunched and her head hung low. Scars marred her skin, easily visible due to her revealing clothing, or lack there of. They appeared to be given by multiple different torture devices, whips, chains, blunt weapons, sharp weapons, amongst others.

Draco watched with controlled anger as Death Eater men whistled and cheered at her, excited by her scantily clad body. Not a few reached out to grab her hair, her breasts, her ass, or pull her in for an unwanted kiss, but they were stopped by the other slave girl who towered above her protectively and pushed her forward, brushing off their hands and invitations and glares with a simple "Sorry boys, Master's orders", "I'm afraid not, this is a party", and "Excuse me, but I have a gift to deliver some time _today_".

The women were twice as bad. If their husband or boyfriend made a move for the girl they would glare venom at her red hair. Many of them called out insults at her small breasts, whipped back, and unfed body. More daring women attempted to strike the girl with ringed fingers, but the other slave took the brunt of it and kept moving, as if unaffected.

Draco observed all of this with a tight jaw and cool eyes. The only sign of his anger, noticed by his close friend Blaise, was his hands clenched so tight to the arms of his chair that his nails dug into the wood and left crescent moon-shaped impressions. It took Ginny all of three minutes to cross the threshold, pushed and rushed by her protector and deliverer, but to Draco he felt as if he watched the girl's stumbling footsteps for at least an hour. He noticed her flinch with each step, as if it pained her to take, and he caught how her arms wrapped protectively around her body as if to hide it from the prying eyes that slowly undressed her.

He had to admit he felt sorry for her. Draco had never been friends with the girl at Hogwarts. He hadn't spoken to her unless to insult her and he wouldn't have remembered her name if he didn't hear the crowd whispering it. But nonetheless, he felt bad for her circumstances. Well, okay, if he was honest with himself that was an understatement. He was furious, pissed off, irate at his father for putting the girl through this. He was certain his perverted father had made her wear such a ridiculous, degrading outfit. The boy felt his blood boil as he stared at the cuts on her body and he knew his father and other Death Eater's were responsible. The tremble of her body and the cruel, harsh words of the crowd made him want to scream and begin throwing hexes at all of those fake, disgusting, horrible people, but he held his tongue and kept his face impassive as she stood at his feet and bowed.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Lights, sounds, colors, textures, they all blended together. She heard the vivid, rich materials of the women's dresses. She saw their cruel words spill from their mouths. She felt the bright colors of the paintings and clothing and makeup. All of it overwhelmed Ginny until she trembled in fear and leaned against the warm, unnamed figure that held her up. Once upon a time she would have thought of the female that supported her and cleaned her and fed her with a name, but now all she knew was the smell of cinnamon, the feel of soft, warm skin, gentle hands and caring eyes, and she dubbed it 'the presence'. That was how she recognized her savior and protector and shield amongst these loud, screaming, cruel creatures.

But all too soon her motherly figure was pushing her to move and she felt one foot step in front of the other without her consent. The lift of each foot took so much energy she felt exhausted after walking a few meters. The drawing of each shaky breath stung her lungs with perfume. She had thought the candle-light in the dark room was bright, but here the world seemed to shine with a blinding white light that hurt her eyes. And she felt cold, so cold. Cool air hit her exposed skin and made her hair stand on end and her body shiver. It seemed to seep into her bones and chill her body so that her limbs felt frozen and like stone. The soft brush of material against her scars made them ache even more than the water that they had bathed her in. She suddenly felt as if she would retch up all of the broth that they had forced down her throat, but thankfully she did not.

Eventually, to her relief, they stopped walking. She squinted her eyes open and tried to make out the details of where she was, of who was around her, but the presence beside her placed a hand on her shoulder and that warm, familiar voice that soothed her mind whispered tightly for her to bow and pushed her down. Ginny would have screamed out in pain had she a voice, for this sudden movement opened up some of the newer scars on her body and made her stiff joints and muscles move much too quickly.

"You can leave now," said a cold voice that Ginny recognized. She cringed and reached out in fright as the presence left her side, leaving her alone and surrounded by the cruel people. "Ahh, a Weasley, enslaved to a Malfoy. Just as it should be." A cold voice chuckled maliciously at her. "Imperio!"

An odd feeling overcame her as her muscles held herself up against her will. Her mind thankfully went blank, and she watched her surroundings with a sort of detached, fuzzy feeling. The words spoken around her were hazy and she had to work to make them out, but she needn't have tried, for soon she was doing as she was told, and she found herself kneeling on the cold floor, her knees stinging from their sudden impact with the marble stone. She felt her head lift and her eyes stare into the icy ones of Lucius Malfoy as he smirked coldly at her.

"Perfect…think? A Weasley bowing…Malfoy! Absolutely…ironic. Say something…slave!... Master!" She felt her lips move against her will, though no sound came out, she knew they formed the foreign word 'master'. She heard the voice say something else, though she missed it against the laughter, and the girl found her lips pressed against a black, leather shoe.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Draco watched in veiled disgust as the girl was forced to kiss his shoes. His father and the other Death Eater's seemed to find this hilariously funny and they cheered her on to do more, inappropriate acts for the birthday boy.

His father grinned viciously, maniacally, at Ginny. "A Weasley kissing the shoes of a Malfoy, as she was intended to do. The perfect gift Draco, your mortal enemy enslaved to you. She's mute, unproblematic, broken. Effortless to manipulate, to control. Do you find her the perfect gift, son?" He could hear the mocking tone in his father's voice. Draco nodded mutely, staring at the top of the girl's head. "Bitch! Look at your master!"

Her head snapped up without a struggle and Draco found himself absorbed in those black-brown depths. They shone with fear, sadness, pain, loss, death. He saw every emotion he had ever felt, save anger, in those eyes. They looked too broken to feel rage, as if it were an emotion left only for those strong enough to fight, and he knew her beyond fighting. Those large, sunken eyes begged him for understanding, for pity, for death, and he wished he could give it to her, how he wished he could kill them both right there and they could die in each other's arms, in each other's remorse and sorrow. Those broken eyes reached the depths of his soul and he suddenly felt naked, exposed, open before them, as if she could see deep into his mind, see the anger and hatred he had for these people, for this place, for this life.

He silently pleaded with her, frantic for her to understand why he lived this life. He was desperate for her to know that he was forced to live like this, to feign his pride and happiness, to worship a murderer and fight alongside him. He wanted her forgiveness for this horrible life he lived, owning humans as property, torturing and killing muggles, advancing the power of the Dark Lord. He begged her to please, please understand that this was not what he wanted, that if he could escape he would, but that he was stuck, and would be, forevermore.

And she seemed to understand. At least, she kept her gaze on him, even after the Imperius Curse had been lifted and their fun had. She stared at him as if he could save her from some unknown fate, and he reached down, touching her hair ever so slightly before he could catch himself. He heard the crowd hush but kept his cool, feigning his interest in her for lust. "She is perfect, father. She will do perfectly." He smirked viciously, but his eyes pleaded her to understand it was all just an act.

"Good, son, good. And now, for your Initiation Ceremony. The time has come." He felt his father's strong hand clench his shoulder, not in comfort, but in warning, warning of the consequences of any rash actions. His father needn't have warned him, he knew the Dark Lord's anger and curses could not begin to compare to his father's, and so he nodded and kept his face as blank as stone as he left the girl kneeling on the floor staring at him. Draco glanced around quickly, caught his friend's dark eyes, and tilted his head imperceptibly at Ginny. He did not see his friend's response, but knew the dark boy would sneak her out of the room and to Draco's private quarters and no one would be the wiser. The crowd was too large for the Dark Lord to notice Blaise's absence, and so his friend would not get in any trouble, or so Draco hoped.

Draco kneeled before his master, his eyes trained on the dirt of the graveyard they had teleported to. Why did he always have to pick graveyards or some other dark, dramatic place to hold initiation ceremonies? Blaise's had been…no, don't think about that. Blaise's initiation ceremony was sick, cruel, disgusting. The two boys never spoke about it, though they both had been there to see her die. But that was the past, over a year ago, and today was Draco's ceremony, and it took all his might to not tremble in fear before the hissing snake of a man.

Deep in the recesses of his mind, hidden behind numerous barriers and wards that not even the Dark Lord could break, Draco begged, hoped, and prayed that he would not have to rape some poor, innocent muggle. Anything but that, anyway but that. Kill them, yes, he could do that, torture them, possibly, but rape them? Defile them? Steal their virginity and make them suffer before slaughtering them or worse, leaving them to live with that kind of horror? No, he could not do that, would refuse to, if only he had a choice…

"Draco, finally you join our ranksss," hissed the Dark Lord in his ear. "Are you ready? Are you prepared, foolissssh boy? Or will you messss thisss up asss you did before? Ssspeak!"

Draco cringed as he felt a cold, dead, skeletal hand on his shoulder. He dared not glance up, but kept his eyes trained on a small flowered weed as it died in the twilight. "No, My Lord, I will not disappoint you!" He forced his voice to be strong and commanding and, thankfully, empty.

"Yesss, but that isss what you sssaid before! Before, when I commanded you to kill that fool Dumbledore, and you failed! You will not disappoint me again with your excusssesss!" And with that the blonde boy could feel the sudden power, as if a hand reached into his brain and tried to find just what it was looking for, scattering any unprotected thoughts to the wind. Draco's defenses went up immediately as he hid his deepest, darkest desires, concealed his hate for the Dark Lord and his father and his fate, buried them so deep that he forced himself to believe this was what he wanted, what he longed for, to follow his father's footsteps.

Soon, all too soon, the prying powers of the Dark Lord receded from his mind, but he did not lower his defenses as he kept his eyes trained, trained forever, never looking away, from that dying flower on the ground, now nothing more than a shadow in the dark graveyard. In the last rays of sunset it seemed to glow red, as if with blood, and Draco wondered if soon he would lay bleeding beside that flower, or if he would tower above a dying muggle, eyes pleading him for death, as Ginny's had done not too long ago.

"Your father hasss taught you well boy. I'm ssssurprisssed. Perhapsss you are fit for your initiation. Stand! Stand before your massster and look me in the face!" So Draco stood quickly, not allowing himself to feel the pain of his stiff knees, and he looked into those crimson red eyes, the eyes of the Devil himself, and tried not to hide away in fear. Those red eyes searched his own defiant mercury pools and Draco swallowed hard, his head raised and his jaw tight. "Your tasssk, Draco Malfoy, are you ready for your tasssk?"

Draco bowed at the waist so low his hair fell in his face, shielding his eyes, and answered "Yes, My Lord." The Dark Lord laughed cruelly, the sound like nails on a chalkboard, making the boy cringe.

"Good, good! We have found where a few remaining Order memberssss are in hiding. We will sssurprisse attack them and sssslaughter them. Boysss, you have free range to do asss you wish with the ladiesss, but keep anyone alive that hasss valuable information! Now, let usss feassst upon the blood of our dying enemiesss!" A cheer resounded throughout the graveyard and Draco sighed in relief.

Kill some Order members. He could do this. He was trained to fight them, to kill them. They were so noble, always attempting to protect each other as they fought. It made them weak and easier to kill. With the Death Eaters, it was every man for himself. If you died, you died; nobody mourned your loss unless you were of value to the Dark Lord. It made fighting much easier when one didn't have to watch his back as well as his comrades'. It also made it a lot more chaotic. And the more chaotic the fight, the less anyone would notice Draco's presence or his lack of enthusiasm in killing.

Draco put on his mask and hood and drew his wand, apparating with the other Death Eaters. They landed outside of a small niche of tents, quiet in the dark of night. The cracks of their apparations were loud, and soon Order members were running out of their tents, wands at the ready. Draco counted them; there were no more than twenty or so, an easy and quick kill for the seventy plus Death Eaters. He joined them in the kill, not bothering to duel but instead casting the Killing Curse easily and efficiently at his half-dressed enemies. He felt disgust with himself at how easily the Curse came; he no longer had to flinch as he muttered the words nor did he feel remorse. He no longer had to feel anything. His mind was thankfully blank as he moved among the mayhem, ignoring the cries of pain and screams for help, blocking out the images of female Order members being raped, disregarding the blood and gore and bodies strewn around him.

And then he saw a flash of red. Not red like the crimson of the battlefield around him, nor red like Voldemort's eyes, or the red of the angry hatred that burned in his heart under the frozen layers, no, the red he saw was more of an orange, the color of the rising sun, of a phoenix's feathers, of a Gryffindor's bravery. His eyes scanned for it again and he quickly found that the red was the color of hair, long, thick, messy hair tied back in a ponytail as the body attached dueled with a faceless Death Eater. That color, that red, it was so familiar, yet, as he moved gracefully towards it, dancing between duels, he could not put his finger on it.

Not until he saw the face anyways. The face was of a young man in his late twenties or so, tall, with long red hair, muggle clothing, and trademark Weasly characteristics. His thoughts immediately jumped to Ginny Weasley. He knew this must be one of her brothers, one of the older ones that graduated before Draco went to school, and he felt a sharp pang of something in his chest. Regret? Remorse? He wasn't sure. But he knew that this man, Ginny's brother, would die here tonight, that was the inescapable truth. There was nothing he could do for the man without risking his own life.

But in another universe, in another life, he saw a different path. If the man lived, Draco could tell him about his sister. He would round up the last remaining Order members and they would storm Voldemort's lair. Draco might even help them. They would rescue Ginny and she would be safe in her brother's embrace, probably the last remaining family member of hers, and she would meet a nice man who would take care of her and heal her and marry her. She would escape from this country, from the falling Wizarding World and live out her life with her brother and her unnamed husband and lots of little children running around and she would be happy.

But he knew that was just a dream. In the real world, Draco stopped moving towards the man and instead stood and watched as a shot of green light killed the fire in his eyes and any hope Draco had for saving his charge, a girl he knew nothing about and had nothing in common with except the pain in her eyes. He wondered if the man, as he fell to the ground lifelessly, knew, in his last seconds of life, that his little sister was alive, though barely, and in Draco's care. He wondered if the man knew Draco's feelings, knew his loyalties did not lie with Voldemort. Did he see Draco running towards him? Did he see him as an enemy, as another nameless Death Eater, or did he see in Draco's eyes, despite their distance and the chaos around them, that they had something in common?

Draco stared at the fallen body, at the once lifeless man who probably had a wife and family and home, mere seconds passing from when he first saw that flash of fiery red to when he stood staring at the lifeless corpse, and Draco wondered how he could ever look in Ginny Weasley's eyes again, knowing that he did nothing to prevent her brother's death.


	3. Ginevra's Phantom

A/N and Disclaimer: Again, thank you to all my reviewers, I really appreciate it. The lyrics in this chapter are from the song "The Phantom of the Opera", written by Andrew Lloyd Webber. These lyrics are from the 2004 version of the movie (also named "Phantom of the Opera"). I do not own the lyrics, please do not sue me, as I don't have any money. These are the two websites I used to get the lyrics, the first one has the 2004 version of the lyrics, the second one has the original version of the lyrics.

I just realized it never uploaded the links on here. Apparently the website doesn't like underscores either. So I'm just going to let everyone know that I used the websites angelfire for the original lyrics and lyricsdownload for the newer version of the lyrics.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Draco threw back his hood and peeled his mask off, throwing the disgusting thing to the ground, purposely stepping on it and grinding his heel into it as he walked into his rooms. Blaise was sitting in one of Draco's black lounge chairs and he didn't even lift his eyes from the large book he was reading to comment "You didn't stay for the party?"

Draco rolled his eyes and pulled off his robe, throwing it down the laundry shoot forcefully. He pulled the tie out of his sweaty hair and shook his head roughly so that his now chin-length hair looked messy and wet. The Death Eaters, celebrating a successful siege, were drinking, telling stories, fucking, and generally partying loudly in the ball room. Draco, too exhausted to return a snide comment, collapsed onto the leather couch with a sigh. "How is she?"

This time Blaise did lift his eyes from his book. He cocked an eyebrow in the boy's direction. "You get back from a bloody battle and the first thing you do is ask about the Weasley girl?"

Draco flipped his friend the bird. "You saw how horrible she looked. She's too thin. She needs to be fed. And get some more decent clothes. And-"

Blaise raised his hand for silence. "Draco, it's all taken care of. I took her back here and called up your servants to feed her and gave her your clothes to wear. She was exhausted, so I let her sleep in your bed." He motioned to a door that led to the bedroom. Draco stood and walked to it, opening it a crack, ignoring his friend's scrutinizing stare.

Ginny lay in his huge bed, so small she might have been mistaken for a pillow or lump of covers. He could see her shock of red hair in bright contrast to his black and silver satin sheets and heavy comforter thrown over her, despite the fact that it was late summer time. He had to step further into the room to see the comforter rising and falling, clarifying that she was breathing evenly. He found himself stepping closer, although his brain did not tell his feet to do so. He was so close he could see his clothes on her in the moonlight, baggy and much too large, the drawstring, pulled tight, still loose around her hips, even though they were magicked to shrink or grow to the wearers size. A strand of her red hair had fallen into her face and it rose and fell with each breath she took, mesmerizing him so that he did not notice that his hand had reached out to grab it and run it through his fingers slowly, learning the feel of it.

Blaise cleared his throat and Draco jumped, spinning on his heel. He had forgotten his friend was there and the boy, with grace to match Draco's, had silently stood and slipped to the door, where he had observed his friend's strange and uncharacteristic actions from a distance.

"She'll be fine, Draco. She was scared and absolutely exhausted, but she survived the ordeal in one piece."

Draco nodded and, after one last glance at her, strode past his friend and back into the sitting room of his wing. He collapsed onto the large couch wearily. "I just don't know what to do about her, Blaise," he said to his friend, who had closed the bedroom door behind them and returned to his chair and book. He closed the book with a sigh and set it aside, realizing he would get no more reading done tonight, and instead listened as Draco continued. "Did you see what my father made her wear?! It's disgusting! All of those Death Eaters leering at her, and she barely looks like a child!"

"If you do recall, Draco, she is just a year younger than you, seventeen." Blaise commented, but Draco ignored him.

"I don't care! Most of those men are married and in their thirties, at least! I could expect that from the Death Eaters our age, but not from adult men! And what does father expect me to do with her anyway?"

He let the question hang between them, neither wanting to answer. "I think we both know the answer to that question, Draco," Blaise commented quietly.

"It's revolting! I would never do that to a woman, especially one as…as…_broken_ as her!" He stood, growing furious in his tirade, and began to pace the room.

"You're quite upset," his friend observed, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Is this just about the Weasley girl, or did something happen tonight?"

Draco sighed and collapsed back onto the couch, exhausted. "Both. They…we…invaded an Order camp. Some rebels were there, plotting to destroy the Dark Lord, most likely, bloody stupid brave Gryffindors. We started fighting, and I saw...I saw her brother." It did not take long for Blaise to realize he was referring to the sleeping girl in the next room. "He was fighting a Death Eater, and I watched like from a tunnel. For a moment, I could see it, me rescuing him, telling him about his sister, that she was still alive, and he could save her, and maybe save me, from all of this. I wanted it so badly, wanted it with every fiber of my being, but I could barely move, I felt so sluggish, and as I ran towards him he was shot by the killing curse. I watched him die, and I suddenly lost hope. I realized that this was my life, _this_ was my future. A string of events in which, each time, I wished I could turn away, from the Dark Lord, the Death Eaters, my father, my fate, turn away and become one of those brave few who fought against what was wrong." He sighed and lifted his sleeve, staring at the ghastly tattoo, bloody and bruised, on his shoulder. "I don't want this, Blaise."

His friend sighed and stood, resting a hand on his shoulder. "None of us do. But this is our fate. It is unstoppable…it is…" He trailed off, and both boys remembered Blaise's initiation ceremony, the horrors of it, her screams as Blaise killed her.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to make you remember that…"

Blaise shook his head, brushing off the apology. "No, don't apologize. We were talking about the Weasley girl, correct?"

Draco sighed and ran his hand through his messy hair. "What am I supposed to do about her? I won't…I refuse to do what my father expects of me." Blaise nodded. "But I can't free her, that would result in my death and hers; she could never survive in the outside world like this."

"Treat her like a servant in front of your father and friends. But in private let her know you are a friend. Put her to work with easy jobs, let the other servants take care of her when you're not around, but watch her back. Your father and those other Death Eaters will be watching her every move, waiting for a chance to get her alone. As long as you're around they'll keep their hands off of her."

Draco nodded. "But you saw her. She's so thin. And so…depressed is an understatement. I want to help her, I just don't know how."

"For now, get her to start eating. Just light stuff, broth and water at first, or she'll get sick. She needs to build up her strength, so teach her to walk. I'll make her potions to lessen the pain of her scars, but I doubt we can completely heal them without pissing off your father. Gain her trust, try to get her to confide in you, if she can. I know she's mute. But at least get her to trust you. For now, that's all we can do."

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Ginny's eyes opened slowly. She felt strange, weightless, as if she floated on a cloud. Soft coolness surrounded her, yet she was warm. Water? No, it was solid, she realized as she reached out a hand to touch it. She ran her hands along it. What was this strange feeling? This…silkiness? And why did her body sigh so contently, why did she feel buoyant and rested and this fluffy thing was under head and…

Bed. Yes, that was the word! Bed. She was in a bed. Sleeping on a cold stone floor, she had forgotten the feel of a soft bed. And this bed was surely the softest she had ever slept in. Even softer than the bed she had known at the Burrow, the bed from her past life-

No. Don't think about that. Don't think about your past life. It no longer exists! It's dead! Dead like everything else!

She heard a strange noise outside. Voices. She did not recognize the voices, but one sounded angry. Was she in trouble for sleeping in this soft bed? Was she in trouble for not being in her cell? How did she get out of her cell? How did she get here?

She remembered, vaguely. Being pulled out of her cell by two rough hands, deep voices, laughing at her, pushing her down the hallway, shoving her into stone walls, but refusing to touch her. Contemplating raping her, No! Please, not that! Not that word, RAPE. No! but they had been given orders not to, and besides, she smelled too bad. That's what they had said. Thank goodness, they did not touch her. They left her in a bathroom, and two softer, kinder voices came. Two soft hands. Someone singing, her voice beautiful, the presence, the warm, kind person. They cleaned her off, it hurt but it felt good, at the same time, and then wrapped her in a warm fluffy cloud, and lifted her face. Two warm, soft green eyes, those eyes belonged to the singing voice, to the presence, to the warmness, the soft hands, the scent of cinnamon.

And then they were shoving something down her throat, something that burned her mouth and reawakened her senses. Taste. That sense, yes, taste. It tasted warm and thin and it quenched her throat. They gave it to her from a bowl, and though it hurt her throat to swallow it was so good. She could not drink it all, just a few sips and her stomach felt full, ready to burst, and her body warm, and her eyes heavy. And they laid her in a bed, but it was not like this bed, not at all, not nearly as soft or silky or weightless or warm or cool or…

But then she was ripped out of the bed, the voices had returned, the feminine voices, and the hands dressed her in something soft and cool, she felt naked. And then the brightness, the mocking laughter, the cold floor, the heavy metal around her wrists and ankles and neck, hands reaching out to touch her. Distorted faces laughing and leering, crazed eyes, but the presence stayed by her side, protecting her, and then her memory became blurry. Confused. She saw two eyes, two cold silver eyes, like deep pools, and under the cold layer they were sad, angry eyes. And in those eyes she saw everything, the world, a horrid world of sadness and confusion and pain, and those eyes, those mercury pools seemed to be apologizing to her, sorry for throwing you in this world, sorry for making you live.

And then she was being pulled to her feet, chaos ensued, people were moving, laughing, she was pulled away from those eyes, away from her lifeline, out of the cold, bright, horrible room and she remembered no more.

And now here she was, in this bed. This soft, fluffy cloud drifting through the night sky, warmed by the breeze, cooled by the moon, dark and comforting, silent, except for those voices outside, deep, masculine voices, but voices that comforted her nonetheless.

Her vision grew fuzzy as well as her mind and the next time she opened her eyes the room was darker, the moon was high in the sky, covered by a cloud, and she found herself standing, though she could not feel her legs. She stepped towards the door and opened it.

A boy lay outside, on a couch, his chest rising and falling. She walked towards him, his hair blew in and out of his pale face. He had a sharp, pointy nose, pale skin, thin lips, light hair. A blanket was thrown over his body, mostly kicked off, and she saw something else in her vision, reaching out towards him. She stared at it, small, bony, pale, paler than him, pale as parchment. A hand. Her hand. And it was reaching towards him, towards his face.

Another hand came up, grabbed her firmly but lightly, and his eyes opened. _Those eyes_. She became lost again in those deep, mercury orbs. They were the eyes that apologized, the eyes that were cold but sad and angry, the eyes that wished for something besides this life. The eyes from the cold, laughing, cruel, bright room, the eyes that understood.

"Go to sleep, Ginny," she heard, and she recognized the voice she had heard earlier that night, outside the room, speaking with another. It was undeniably the same voice. "Ginny, you shouldn't be up. Go back to sleep." Ginny? Yes, that was her name. Ginny. It sounded strange to her ears, yet smooth and soft and friendly when rolling off of his tongue. She liked how it sounded. "Ginny," he sat up, rest a hand on her face. "C'mon, you need to go back to sleep." He pulled on her hand, pulled her towards the door, but she couldn't move, just walking from the fluffy cloud had made her exhausted. And then she was being lifted off her feet, an arm cradled her head, another was under her knees, and a warm body was pressed into hers. He smelled good, spicy and sweaty and warm. She buried his head in his chest, hard and muscular, yet soft and smooth, with little hairs, like a peach, an odd fruit. He returned her to her cloud, and she felt weightless and tired once more, and her eyes closed slowly, against her will, and she stared into her mercury orbs, and he whispered "Go to sleep. It's okay. I'm here." She realized she was crying, strange wet tears rolling down her cheeks out of her eyes, she wasn't sure why, but there they were, and there was his hand stroking her hair, and his warm breath, his soft, small hands, and those mercury orbs were the last thing she saw before drifting off.

When she woke again it was to a different voice, a different hand, feminine, yet still warm, and she opened her eyes and saw blue ones. Ahh, the presence, the protector, the singer, was whispering "Wake up, Ginny, it's time to eat. And then to work. You need to walk some more, to get your strength back." The woman smiled at her and as Ginny looked out the window she saw it was daylight.

It was the first time she saw daylight in over a year.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Draco thoroughly studied Ginny's progression over the next few weeks, helping out when he could. She began to drink more broth and even moved on to milk and small bites of solid food. Thankfully she hadn't reached the stage where, as Blaise put it, her stomach began to digest itself, causing it to bloat up and the rest of her skin grow tight around her skeleton, like he had seen of poverty in some places in the muggle world.

Over those weeks she put on weight at a remarkable speed, so that she did not look nearly so unhealthy and thin. Finally, her ribcage, hips, and the bones of her arms and legs did not protrude as much and her cheeks even began to fill in, making her eyes appear less huge. She was still incredibly and unhealthily thin, but at least she did not look like a corpse risen out of the grave. Even her hair, with daily washings and special shampoos, began to look fuller and shinier.

She even began to walk, leaning on him or Alexandria. She had seemed surprised but pleased when he wanted to learn her name and treated her like an equal, to his utter shock. What did the other servants think of him? That he was just like his parents, that he looked down on the servants and saw them as nothing more than numbers? Sure, he wasn't very social, so had never gotten to know anybody besides Blaise, but did that mean they naturally assumed he was such an asshole like his father?  
But that was besides the point. Alex, as she insisted he call her in private, and Draco slowly taught Ginny how to stand on her own two feet and even walk around without falling over or losing balance. The work must have been grueling, for she often barely made it to the servant's quarters before she was asleep on her feet, and she slept deeply, from what Alex told her. Draco did not like having her down there; he worried about her constantly when she was not around, to his surprise. Every morning he checked on her and every night he left her there, causing the servants to stare at him and whisper as he left, to his annoyance. Was it so bad that he should be worried about his charge? Especially when she came into his care as near to death as she was? He considered keeping her in his rooms, but the truth was she needed to be outside, needed to see the daylight and walk the halls, even if it caused him to haunt her like a shadow and lash out at any passing Death Eater or male that so much as glanced at her. And he realized, with Blaise's calm speech, that he could not let her sleep in his rooms, seeing as one, he had only one bedroom, two, she would be safe with Alex and Maya, and three, it would be solely inappropriate and suspicious to have her in his room every night. Even his father would think it odd.

But as the weeks progressed, and as he haunted her like a shadow, his mind on her when his eyes could not be, he noticed even the slightest change in her. A lessening shadow under her eyes, a dawning of recognition in them, the realization as she rediscovered the world around her.

One evening at dusk, as they walked through the gardens, her enthralled in the brightly colored, wonderful smelling flowers, it began to rain lightly. She had stared up in wonder, slowly lifting a hand and letting the rain fall into it lightly, and as she did, he realized she must not have seen or felt or heard rain all of that time she was locked away in that cell. At first he was afraid she would be frightened, and for good reason, but after a few minutes of standing in the rain with her eyes shut tight, he whispered in her ear "Rain, Ginny. Do you remember rain?"

Her eyes opened slowly and he could see the memories come flooding back to her. She lifted her head up to the sky, splayed her arms as if she would take flight, her fingers spread to let the rain fall through them, and began to laugh or cry or shake in fear, perhaps all three. Though no sound came out except the whooshing of air through her lungs, he could see she indeed did remember rain, and that she liked it very much. A small smile curved on his lips as she began to turn slowly, the dark, cloudy sky spinning above her, until she collapsed dizzily. He walked over to her and kneeled by her side, afraid she had hurt herself, but she merely continued to stare up in wonder, and her joined her, not caring that his hair became plastered to his head or that rain drops stung his eyes or that his clothes became soaked or that he began to cry, just a few, silent tears, that mixed with the rain and trickled down his cheek. He did not realize until her hand tightened around his that he had been holding her hand for dear life.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

The passage of time is an odd thing. When Ginny was locked away in her cell, it sometimes seemed that she had been there for millennia. Sometimes it seemed that her past life was just mere seconds ago. The same was with this. Each grueling step that they made her take seemed to last a hundred years, yet if she looked back, it was only yesterday that she was pulled out of her comforting cell of blackness and stone and revived into this new world. The singing voice and the silver orbs were constantly by her side, and with time she began to see more, the faces, the sexes, the bodies, that were attached to them.

The first, the singing voice, the one that washed away her blood and dirt and fed her and mothered her, it was a woman. She had a kind voice, whether she was laughing or singing or talking or murmuring in her ear as she drifted off to sleep. What Ginny noticed next and began to associate with her was short brown hair, just past her ears, cut so that it stuck up like a bunch of little spikes. Ginny found her hands running through it, catching the girl off guard so that her face, her face which had green eyes and a smiling mouth, turned red. And as Ginny paid attention to her she saw that she was a woman, that she smelled and felt and looked like a woman.

The other presence, the deep, silver orbs, the sad and angry eyes, she realized belonged to a male. He was undeniably male, completely different from the woman, who felt soft and warm. His hands were strong but his fingers thin and clean and cool, and his body seemed to be chiseled out of stone or ice, for it felt hard and bony and muscular. His face was not soft and round like the woman's, but sharp and thin. Sharp eyes, a sharp nose, a sharp mouth, sharp cheeks. Everything about him seemed sharp and pointy, like a blade's edge. And his hair, it was a curious thing. Silvery-white, almost like the color of her skin, but shiny and long and sharp too, ending in sharp points that were soft to touch but frightening to look at. His face did not turn red when her hand reached out to touch his hair, although he did begin to speak, a rumbling sound building deep in his chest and reaching out his mouth to her ear. It took all of her concentration to listen to the words, to separate them from the other words, to try to make sense of them, though often she couldn't. Only certain words, like rape or death or rain.

Rain. She had forgotten rain. She was outside with him, with the orbs and the body that went with them. And something strange happened. Suddenly her arm felt wet. Just in one spot, just for a few seconds did it sting, but then there it was again, on her head, or her neck, or her leg. What was it hitting her? Was it some sort of spell? Was she bleeding? Was she dying? But her body did not seem different at all, in fact it looked exactly the same. And the little water drops, for that certainly was what they must be, for one fell in her mouth, and it had no taste and no smell and nothing, except the coolness of water slipping down her throat, something she had longed for and wished would never come as she lay in her cell, they seemed to be coming from the sky.

She looked up, wondering what they were, and something hit her in the eye, making it hurt. She blinked, nothingness, light, nothingness, light, until her vision returned to where it had been before, though it looked different. The ground, it was darker, as if a shadow covered it, and something, like a sheet of darkness, seemed to be falling from the sky, looking like one form until she picked out the individual drops. No, not darkness, wetness. Everything was…wet. A feeling of coolness, of heaviness, of warmness, of rainginnydoyourememberrain? What? Rain? R-A-I-N. Ginny. Her name. Rain, Ginny. Rain Ginny. Ginny's raining. Does Ginny remember rain? Does she recall rain? Do I?

Ginny lifted her head and spread her arms and opened her mouth. It was water. It was wet and cool. It was hitting her from the sky. It stung, but it soothed her parched skin and throat. She melted, she became the rain, she fell form the sky, tumbling, spinning, like a raindrop, falling into his orb, his silver orb, making the silver leak out like a tear. And it trickled down his cheek to his neck to his shoulder to his arm to his hand and it was squeezed between their two hands, melting the skin and molding them together like clay.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

"You'll be in charge of Mister Malfoy's apartment, which I used to do alone along with this wing, which also includes besides his apartment some spare bedrooms for guests. It's a fairly easy job, actually, you lucked out. He keeps his apartment clean for the most part, so all you have to do is the little things: make the bed, pick up any stray pieces of clothing and throw them down the chute, clean the bathroom, that sort of thing. So, I'll let you be in charge of his room, since you're still a bit too weak to do any heavy work." Alex explained to Ginny, who merely stared at her blankly. "Do you understand, Ginny?" she asked. No response. Alex sighed. "How about if you just watch for now?" Nothing.

And just when she thought they were getting somewhere. Ginny had learned to walk, alright stumble around on two feet, but she still wasn't talking, they had to feed her, and she never seemed responsive when they talked to her. Alex wondered if Ginny could even hear her, if the girl even knew she was talking to her, as she gazed blankly off into space. Sometimes Alex wondered if she even could think, or if she had been so traumatized her brain had shut down. Either way, trying to get her to do anything was a hassle.

Alex sat the girl down on the couch in Mister- Draco's room, as he had insisted she call him. The boy, too, was an interesting character. Never had he done so much as speak to her, or anyone else, for that matter. He had never shown an interest in women. He had never had any friends besides Blaise Zabini. Yet, he suddenly seemed very different. It was as if Ginny's arrival had changed something in him. Whenever she was around, Alex could see him watching Ginny, studying her, as if she both intrigued and worried him. He was obviously protective of her, the confused, near-death child had been thrown into his care out of nowhere, and it seemed the only thing he could do was protect her. He was obviously at a loss as a way to make her better, had Alex and Blaise Zabini not been there to take care of her, he would have probably given up by now or accidentally killed her himself. He had tried to feed her solid foods, for goodness sakes! The day after she had arrived into his care he had gathered as much food as she could and put it in front of her. Alex had walked in on him attempting to get her to eat and nearly knocked him over to get to her and stop her from eating the rich Malfoy dinner he had put in front of her. At first he seemed confused as to why she was stopping him, and Alex had to explain that Ginny was far too underfed to be eating solid foods, that they most likely would kill her, or make her very sick in the least.

Alex glanced over at Ginny to find her gone. For a second her heart beat rapidly in fear and worry until she saw that the young girl had walked over to Draco's bedroom and lay down in the bed. She probably shouldn't let Ginny lay in Mister Malfoy's bed, if the Master and Mistress of the house found out they would have a fit, but she noticed Ginny's drooping eyes and tired swagger and decided to leave her alone. She could clean the place on her own anyway.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

She was floating on her soft cloud again. Her soft, warm, yet cool cloud. Ginny snuggled in deeper and buried her head in the pillow. And then a cool hand was running through her hair, and a voice was whispering in her ear, a voice she recognized, and oh no, not him, please, not him.

She opened her eyes slowly and then shut them tight again. No. No, please not him. Please! "Ginevra, why are you hiding? Open your eyes, my sweet Ginevra. Open your eyes." His voice, it was like water, silky and smooth and cold, so bitterly cold, like eyes. Cruel. A cruel, cold voice. A voice she was useless to ignore.

Ginny opened her eyes, and there he was, in her vision. His black, messy hair fell in his sharp, pale face in stark contrast. His eyes, red eyes, and his sharp nose, and his tall, strong body. It invaded her vision, just as he invaded her mind. He chuckled. His mouth curved up in a smirk. His eyes glistened in triumph. "Ginevra, why do you look so surprised to see me?"

She backed up. She had to get away from him, away from his prying mind. "Ginevra, you cannot get away from me, surely you know that?" She felt her head shake as she scooted away and fell down onto the floor. She saw that the fluffy, soft cloud she had been laying on had changed, the whole room had changed. No longer the silver and black of his room, him with the cold, said, mercury eyes, no, this room was red and black, a mixture of the two of them, him with his dark heart, her with her once fiery heart. Red and black red and black, it swarmed around her.

"Do you like it, Ginevra? Do you like the room I have created for you, for us?" She shuddered at the word, the way it fell off of his snake tongue. He got off of the bed, walked towards her. She backed up, she tried to get away, but there were no doors, no windows, nowhere to go, no way to escape. "You cannot escape your own mind, Ginevra. You cannot escape me. Surely you have realized that by now? You shake your head. No? Did you think, as you lay dying in that cell, that I was gone? Did you think that just because you could not hear my voice, that I could no longer penetrate your thoughts, that I had gone forever? That you had gotten rid of me?" He laughed. It was malicious. "It is true, as you grew weaker, so did I. As you died, I did too. But you were reborn, and so am I, Ginevra. Reborn, stronger than ever. Strong enough to pull you into your own mind, to invade your dreams, to create this place for us. Unfortunately, I am still limited to your crazed, traumatized mind. But do not worry, Ginevra. Here, we can be together." He reached a hand to her, and suddenly he was touching her, his hand on her face, in her hair, on her neck. She had forgotten his touch, only at his peak of power could he touch her, and then she had been younger, then she had loved him and cared for him. Then she had saved him.

"No!" Her eyes widened. That sound, that voice, light and sad and hoarse, yet recognizable. She knew that voice. Knew, yet did not understand, the way her mouth formed around the word. He watched as her mouth formed around another word, as her voice bloomed, came back to life, and suddenly she could speak again. Suddenly there was a clarity to the world. Suddenly she remembered words, remembered their meanings, remembered how to form them with her own mouth and voice.

He smirked again. "You have missed the sound of your voice, have you not, Ginevra? It is sad, that such a beautiful voice would be wasted for such a pitiful cause. A cause that ended in failure, ultimately. You gave up your lovely, enchanting voice to hide me from the world." He shook his head sadly and his hand caressed her face. "I too have missed your voice, and your thoughts. Isn't it ironic that your voice, the voice of a siren, should only be heard inside your own mind?" He moved closer and Ginny turned her head away. "My Ginevra," he whispered in her ear, "my siren, my angel of music, how I have missed your captivating song. Sing for me, won't you, angel? Sing for me."

She shook her head again but he grinned darkly and pulled away. Suddenly she was being lifted off of the ground, she was on the bed again, and he stood above her, his hands on either side of her hips, his voice caressing her ear. "Sing with me, won't you? You used to love to sing with me."

"That was before I knew how you would haunt me." She whispered, and then covered her mouth with wide eyes. That was what he wanted, she could not give it to him, could not let him hear her voice. His eyes closed in ecstasy at the sound of her voice. His pale hand rose to her hands and lowered them, and then began to caress her neck. She felt suddenly hot, suddenly aching. She wanted to sing, wanted to let her voice loose, her voice that had been captivated for so long. Ginny tried again to shake her head but it was useless. "Sing."

She sang. Suddenly dark haunting music was playing, his choice she knew, and she could not resist as the words came tumbling out.

In sleep he sang to me

In dreams he came

That voice which calls to me

And speaks my name

And do I dream again?

For now I find

The phantom of the opera is there,

Inside my mind

As she sang she watched him. He stood and circled around her like an animal stalking its prey. His hands were constantly on her. When she shut her mouth and refused to sing again he grabbed her hand and pulled her from the bed into the room.

Sing once again with me

Our strange duet

My power over you

Grows stronger yet

His hands wrapped around her head, tangled in her hair. She tried to resist, tried to turn away, to no avail. He pulled her into his body, one hand finding the small of her back.

And though you turn from me

to glance behind

The phantom of the opera is there

Inside your mind

His voice was powerful and deep and dark, it grabbed her and dragged her under like a drug. Ginny turned from him, tried to escape, and found herself face to face with a floor to ceiling mirror. She stared in shock at her reflection, knowing it was not truly her, but rather the way he saw her, the way she remembered herself before she was locked in her cell, subject to the torment of torture and silence. She lifted a hand to her face, which was round and pink and soft, to her full, pouty lips, to her brown, dark eyes and vibrant red hair. She wore a dress she had never owned or seen, silky and low cut and whispy, no more than a slip, leaving her naked and exposed, her full breasts nearly bursting out. She had forgotten this face, had forgotten how beautiful she had once been.

Those who have seen your face

Draw back in fear

I am the mask you wear

He came up behind her, his head above hers, his chin resting on her crown. His hands were on her again, one resting between her breasts, pulling her against him, against his chest, leaving no room for air between them.

It's me they hear

His other hand rested on her neck, stroked it, coaxing her voice to sing again, and she joined him their voices escalating and combining, his deep and dark, hers light and high and small.

My/Your spirit and my/your voice

In one combined

The phantom of the opera is there

inside my/your mind

Her voice soared, she no longer sang words, only notes, higher than she had ever sang, louder than she had ever sang, as his hands tightened around her neck. He whispered in her ear, told her to sing, his voice rose, he commanded her, he sang with her, their voices joined as their bodies were joined. She could feel the vibration of his throat against her, his chest rising and falling, his hands clenching her body tightly.

Sing! My angel of music  
Sing my angel  
Sing for me  
Sing  
Sing my angel  
Sing for me!

She collapsed, out of breathlessness, out of fear, out of horror. She fell against him and he picked her up again, carried her to the couch, cradled her in his arms and he caressed he body, his lips against her skin, against her neck. "You can never escape me, Ginevra. Even if you died, I would haunt you into the afterlife, if there is such a thing. I will _always_ be with you." She cried, her body quivering against his and he held her. She did not push him away, could not resist him, though she cried from his touch.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

A/N: So, I'm at a bit of a loss as to where to go from here on out. Just thought I'd ask that if anyone has any ideas or something they would like to see happen in the story, please let me know. Thank you!


	4. Child

A/N: Sorry about not posting a chapter last week. It was the holidays, and holidays are always chaotic and busy. So here is the next chapter. I got some positive and negative feedback on the song I put in the story. If you could please tell me what you thought of it, that would be great. So, I haven't really proofread this story, and it's one in the morning, hopefully there aren't too many spelling/grammar errors. If you find any, please let me know and I'll fix them. Thanks all!

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

It is said that a sound you hear constantly, or often, in this case, your brain tends to ignore. So when Draco walked into his rooms that afternoon, he didn't notice the crying girl shaking on the couch or the older one trying to console her. It only took him a few seconds for his brain to process what was going one and then he was beside Ginny and Alexandria in a flash. "What happened? Is she alright?!" He demanded, staring at the redhead in confusion.

If the girl noticed his sudden rude entrance and questions, she didn't seem to care. "I don't know. We were cleaning, or I was anyway, and then she went to lay down in your bed…uhh, sorry about that." He waved it away with a hand. He didn't care if Ginny fell asleep in his bed, even if he did, that was the least of his worries. "Well then I went to check on her and found her sitting there rocking back and forth and mouthing something, like she was trying to talk, but she was saying anything so I couldn't understand her and then she just started crying."

Draco nodded and stroked Ginny's hair. "Shhh, Ginny, stop crying. It's okay, we're not going to hurt you."

"Mister Malfoy…If I may speak?" She asked, resting a hand on his arm.

Draco lifted an eyebrow at her. "I told you to call me Draco and feel free to speak your mind in my presence. We are equals, Miss Alexandria."

She smiled slowly and nodded, a gleam of respect in her eyes. "Then you shouldn't call me Miss Alexandria. It makes me feel silly. Alex will do. Well, look at her eyes. See how glazed over they are. She doesn't seem to see us; it's like she's in a trance. I think maybe she's dreaming or have a seizure or something. I don't know much about seizures but from what I've heard from muggles, but they aren't good."

Draco nodded, his lips pursed in a worried line. "Floo Blaise, maybe he can figure out what's wrong with her. The floo powder is on the mantel over the fireplace in the living room."

The girl nodded and stood, running from his bedroom to the fireplace nearby. Draco put a hand on Ginny's face, looking into her eyes. She was speaking again, or trying to anyway. The only sound that came out was a faint whisper of a noise, no more than air leaving her lungs in a whoosh. It was almost as if her vocal cords didn't work, or as if they were gone. She was forming words, he could catch a few of them from the way her tongue moved around the words and the air left her lungs and lips, and it almost seemed as if she were singing to herself.

"Draco, move aside." He heard the familiar voice of his good friend and sighed in relief, getting out of Blaise's way. The older boy had a medical kit in one hand and his wand in the other. Thank goodness one of them was smart. In Hogwarts Blaise had studied to be a mediwitch. He knew all about magical and mortal maladies, their causes, and how to prevent or cure them. Had it not been for his parents forcing him to become a Death Eater, Draco was sure he would be a respectable Mediwitch at St. Mungo's by now.

"Is she having a seizure? Is there a potion we can use?" asked Alex, who stood nervously behind them, twisting her hands.

"No, it's not a seizure. It just seems as if she's asleep…" Blaise answered, shining a light in both of Ginny's eyes.

"Asleep?" Draco asked skeptically. "She has her eyes open. With all of this ruckus she would have woken up by now."

Blaise shrugged. "Asleep or in a trance. It could be a cursed placed on her to cause horrible nightmares she cannot wake up from. That seems to be the case. It's an interesting idea, but I've never heard of it actually being done, and if it has, it's rare."

Alex shook her head. "Nobody put a curse on her. I've been with her all morning, and she was fine. And it's not like I have a wand to curse her with."

Blaise nodded as he snapped his fingers in front of the girl's eyes. No reaction. "Ennervate." Still nothing. "She seems to be stuck inside her mind or her dream. Either way, I think the only way to wake her up is manually. No spells seem to be working on her, so it must be in her mind, and not a curse at all."

Draco grabbed Ginny by the shoulders and turned her towards him. He leaned in close, staring into the girl's glazed, blank eyes. "Ginny, I need you to wake up." He glanced at Blaise, who nodded. "I need you to listen to my voice and wake up. It's me, Draco. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm your friend. _Please_, Ginny." He shook her lightly. Maybe that wasn't the best idea, he didn't want to shake her brains out or dislocate her neck, what with her head lolling around like that, but this was freaking him out. "Ginny, wake up!"

And then as quickly as he had found her, crying in his bed, she was awake, her eyes focused, darting around, a confused look on her face. Her mouth opened and closed, "Ah…ah…ah…" The whooshing of air was all that came out. She closed it when she seemed to realize she could not speak.

"Ginny, are you okay?" Alex asked, kneeling down beside her and stroking her hair. "Just nod if you are." Ginny merely stared at her.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Draco took a deep breath and fixed his shirt. He was dressed in the usual casual Malfoy attire: perfect black dress pants, a silver silk shirt, and shiny black shoes. Blaise gave him a slight nudge. "C'mon, I want to get there sooner or later."

Draco glared at him. "You are asking me to have dinner with my father and mother _by choice._ Forgive me if it takes a moment to calm my senses." His voice was dripped with sarcasm as he fixed his immaculate hair once again. Draco finally pushed the heavy oak door open to the dining room.

His father sat at the head of the long dining table, his back perfectly straight and his usual smirk in place. His mother was in the seat to his right, and Draco took the seat on his left. Blaise joined them. "So nice to see you dining with us again, Draco." His mother commented, smiling her falsely sweet smile.

Draco's own lips cracked up into a forced grin. "I am sorry I do not join you more, mother. I am simply too busy and find this dining room much to formal for my desires." The door opened and slave entered, carrying a dish of steaming food, more slaves following behind her. She stopped before Draco, lowering the plate in front of him, and for a brief second their eyes met. Alex curtsied low to him, almost as if she were mocking him, and winked. Draco nodded his head every so slightly so that his parents didn't notice, and then the moment was gone as she walked back out the door to the kitchens.

For a few moments the only sound that could be heard was that of metal hitting plate, for Malfoys of course did not make noise when they ate, until Draco felt Blaise nudge him under the table. He glanced sidelong at his companion, who lifted an eyebrow. Draco cleared his throat. "Father, I am curious about my new slave. Where exactly did you get her from?" Draco asked. He tried not to let his voice waver, tried not to let his father see the deeper meaning behind his simple question. He forced his eyes to lift to his father's.

Lucius was smirking again. "Ahh, an interesting one. She was a prisoner of war staying in the dungeons of Azkaban, rotting away with all of the other blood traitors like her."

"That is very interesting, for she seems much too young even now to have fought in the war. Where was she captured?" Blaise asked right on cue, his voice a perfect mixture of curiosity and offhand chit-chat. Draco envied he could do that.

"Of course she wasn't in the war. She was captured in a raid."

Draco nearly choked on his food and began coughing so loud Blaise had to slap him on the back.

"Draco!" his mother scolded. "We are not barbarians. Chew your food before you try to swallow it."

Draco nodded and tried to clear his airways. Blaise beat him to the question. "A raid?"

Lucius looked up, surprised that the boys wanted to hear more. "Yes. We attacked the Weasley household in the hopes of finding Harry Potter there. This was a year ago, before the final battle. Potter was not there, but we did kill that scrawny red-headed Weasley he went to school with and five of his family members, including a mudblood. It wasn't until my boys were leaving that they found the youngest Weasley hiding under a floorboard crying. What a sight it was too! To see the littlest, female Weasley cowering there in the dirt, covered in blood and begging for her life!" He smirked vindictively and laughed.

"Blood? How did she get injured?" Blaise asked, leaning in. He was absorbed now, and did not bother to hide it.

"Not her own blood. Her family members' blood had dripped through the cracks in their nasty little house and covered her."

Draco felt his hand tighten around his silver fork and it took all his strength to unclench it. A civilian? They killed civilians and captured one as a prisoner of war? How dare they! She must have seen her parents die, she had been covered in their blood, after all, and they did not feel any remorse for the fact that these people were innocents?! No wonder she was so fucked up, she probably had a front row seat to the slaughter, and who knows what else they did.

Blaise broke the silence, saving Draco from exploding in rage. "Why didn't you just kill her with the rest of her disgusting family, Mister Malfoy?"

Malfoy nodded, beaming at him. "A very good question. Well, my boys had been for a while without woman's touch, and her mother was a bit on the older side, though they took a go at her. She was a pretty, young thing and they were all fighting over who would get her first, so instead I had her locked up so I could get any information out of her. Then I would let my best men have their way with her. However..." he grimaced in irritation, "she was mute, as we quickly realized, a spell or curse of some sort put on her. My men still wanted to rape her but I told them to hold off until we could get any information on her. Unfortunately, I still have yet to find a way to make her talk." He shook his head. "No reason in letting such a pretty young thing go to waste, though, I suppose. That is why I gave her to Draco as a gift. Have you had your fun with her yet, son?"

Draco nearly choked again. He glared at his plate in fury. He knew that was what his father expected of him, and if he believed Draco was not raping her, he would think Draco was weak and then feed throw her to the wolves to be rampaged. He could not allow anyone to think that, ever. "No, not yet, I simply haven't the time."

"Well what are you waiting for, son?! I'm sure she's still a virgin!" His father roared with laughter. "Untouched by another man, yours to claim. I am almost tempted…"

"No!" A silence fell over the room and Draco blinked in surprise. Had he said that? Shit. "I seem to be a bit possessive of her, my apologies. I just want to be the first to claim her. I have simply been waiting for her to plump up again, so she isn't so thin."

His father nodded in approval and continued eating. His mother was silent as she listened to the conversation, her face stoic. "A wise decision. A lady like that should be curvy and full-breasted before you do anything with her, or else she is merely spoiled."

"I agree…If you'll excuse me, but I do believe I'm done eating." He stood, throwing down his napkin, too disgusted to eat anymore, and Blaise rose as well.

"I must excuse myself too. Thank you for having me for dinner Mister and Misses Malfoy." He bowed gracefully and followed the fuming Draco as he stormed towards his apartment.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

The next morning found Draco and Blaise sitting on Draco's balcony which overlooked the gardens below, the same gardens Draco had taken Ginny to the first time she saw rain. Well, it wasn't the first time she had seen rain, obviously, but everything with Ginny now seemed to be a first. She was like a newborn child just opening her eyes to the world, innocent, amazed, wondrous. As Draco stared silently into his tea, brooding over Ginny Weasley, said girl made an appearance.

"And I now present to you, Ginny Weasley in all her finery. Doesn't she look wonderful people? How about an applause," sounded a familiar voice behind them. Draco smiled and looked up from his tea, Blaise mimicking his actions. Alex had her hands displayed like a show host on a muggle game show, a silly grin on her face.

Nobody was there. Blaise coughed inconspicuously into his hand, trying to hide his amusement. Draco lifted an eyebrow at the girl. "She's invisible now?"

Alex blinked in surprise and turned her head to the open door, looking exasperated. "Ginny! You were supposed to come out when I said that." Shaking her head, the older girl stomped over to Draco's bedroom door and pulled Ginny out, tugging her into the room.

Draco almost choked on his tea (he seemed to be doing that a lot lately) at the sight before him. Ginny had gotten one of the slave uniforms issued to all of the servants in the household. It was simple really, a black skirt for the girls, black pants for the guys, a white blouse, and a frilly white maid's apron to go over the skirt. Alex had, of course, dolled her up a bit. She had given Ginny a multilayered, white, lace petticoat to go underneath, fluffing the skirt up considerably. She had high white socks going up to her thighs and a frilly maid's hat on her head.

Draco felt his face go hot. Alex was grinning like a fox, Blaise's eyebrows seemed to have receded into his hairline, and Ginny stood there awkwardly with her feet turned in, looking confused and innocent as always. "Wh-what is this?! What did you do to her?!" Draco asked, standing up. He sounded mortified, even to himself.

Alex's face dropped. "What do you mean? I thought she looked cute?"

"That's exactly the problem! She's…she's…she shouldn't look like that! She looks like a…like a…"

"Woman?" Blaise suggested.

"Exactly! She shouldn't look like that! She's much too innocent! She's too…" Draco trailed off, seeing the grins on Blaise and Alex's faces. "What?!"

"A bit possessive are we?" asked Alex, smiling at him.

Blaise made a noise of agreement. "I don't think he likes seeing Ginny Weasley look like a grown-up woman. I think it scares him that somebody might find her…attractive or something?" Blaise taunted him.

Draco would not have it. This was ridiculous. Ginny's confused look displayed that she clearly did not understand what was going on. She had the mind of a child. She shouldn't be dressed so…provocatively. Her clothing showed way too much skin and would incite way to many eyes, especially in this house. He knew the perverted creeps that slunk around the manor, looking for female servants to pick on. His parents either ignored it or encouraged it as long as it was in private, but in this huge house anybody could drag Ginny into a dark room and have their way with her.

"I won't have it. She can't go gallivanting around the manor looking so suggestive. Someone might get the wrong idea. They might think she's…trying to get sex or something!"

Alex rolled her eyes. "Nobody is going to bother her Draco. I'll be around to make sure of that. Besides, I think she looks cute."

"She's a child!" He yelled, trying to get them to see the danger in their actions. "She doesn't understand! You can't tell her to wear these things and expect she'll understand! You can't tell her to do anything, because she'll do it without realizing her actions! She'll-"

"She is not a child!" Alex roared back. "And she is not stupid! You can't continue to treat her like a child, you have to let her grow up sometime! You are not her father, her father is dead, you are not her older brother, you are not her mother-" She stopped mid-sentence, as if seeming to realize what she'd said.

All eyes zoned in on Ginny. She was staring at the ground, a confused, sad look on her face, as if she were trying to remember something, or perhaps forget something, that she did not want to remember. As if she was trying to understand. Her face dropped and her eyes became blank and empty. She was escaping, Draco could tell immediately, and suddenly he realized he'd been wrong. She wasn't a child, she wasn't confused or stupid. She was just broken, sad, traumatized. Her blank stares were not those of someone who did not understand, but rather those of someone who understood too much. The stare of someone who merely wanted to be numb, lifeless, alone, dead. She had used up all of her emotion left, and now all she had were her blank, dull eyes. Ginny was impossible to read, to him or anybody else, because her eyes were so deep, so dark brown they seemed endless, like a void or black hole. Eyes are the windows to a persons soul, and her soul was dark with sadness.

Draco dropped his head in shame. "I'm sorry," he and Alex said at the same time, apologizing to each other and to Ginny. Alex stopped and let him continue. "Sorry, about saying that stuff. You aren't a child, and I guess I should let you dress however you want to…but umm…that doesn't mean I'm going to stop protecting you, Ginny." He brought a hand to her face. Ginny looked up. She understood, or at least seemed to. "So I guess…you know…you can wear that if you want to…"

Alex jumped up and clapped her hands happily. The chiming of Draco's clock seemed to startle her. "We should get to work Ginny. Let's go." With that they were gone.

"Your protectiveness wasn't the reason you didn't want her to wear that," commented Blaise who, sometime during the argument, had sat back down with his tea and simply observed.

Draco turned to him, lifting an eyebrow. "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean, you didn't want her to not wear that because of what other people might think of her. You didn't want her to wear that because of what you thought of her." Blaise smirked at his friend. "Her outfit…made you feel something…inappropriate?"

Draco glared at his friend. "What the fuck are you talking about?! That's so sick, Blaise. She's just a-" he stopped. He was about to say child, but she wasn't really a child, they had already determined that. "She's…she…"

Blaise smiled at his friend and motioned to the seat beside him. Draco sat down with a mixture of a sigh and a huff. "It's okay, to be attracted to her, you know."

Draco shook his head. "It feels wrong…"

Blaise shrugged. "My relationship with Cécile felt wrong as well…many told me it was wrong…" Blaise trailed off, lost in thought. "And maybe they were right. But I loved her anyway. And you…do you love Ginny?"

Draco couldn't answer this. He wasn't sure how.


	5. Guardian Angel

A/N: Well, here's the next chapter. Not sure how good it will be, I wrote most of it last night while trying to avoid homework. I looked over it once, but if you find any errors please let me know. Thank you! And as always, reviews are appreciated. :)

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

"Don't you think it is absolutely gorgeous, Draco?!" Squealed a voice behind him. He winced and turned, trying not to throw up in disgust.

Pansy stood before him, trying on a wedding dress. It was hideous. The white, lace dress was low cut, showing her overly-large breasts off, and had puffy sleeves and layers upon layers of lace for a skirt. Huge pink bows and flowers adorned it, he supposed in an attempt to cover up her fleshy belly and thunder thighs, and to top it all off was a giant tiara thing on her head with a veil attached.

Her pug face had scrunched up in a smile, giving her the look of an asthmatic dog as she cackled, for that was the only way to describe her laugh. It had to be the most revolting and tacky thing he had ever set eyes on. The dress was ugly too.

"Oh…sweetie…that's…" He trailed off, trying to think of a nice way to describe it, but nothing came to mind.

"Awww, he's speechless. Crabbe, Goyle, he's speechless with love and ecstasy." She winked at him, making him shudder involuntarily. "But I must remain chaste until our wedding night, fiancé."

Draco almost gagged. Chaste? She was far from chaste. He knew she had slept with Crabbe and Goyle and even some adult, married men when she could. She wasn't pretty, far from it, but she was easy, and stupid lumps of rock like Crabbe and Goyle didn't think about the fact that they were getting seconds from a hideous, fake, rich, snotty, ugly girl like her. From what they told him, again he shuddered in repulsion, they merely shut out the light and pretended she was someone else. The thought of those two fat asses fucking anyone was a fright.

Draco had ditched them early on. Although they had seemed close in Hogwarts, he was constantly trying to get away from the oafs who followed him everywhere like lapdogs. After Pansy had realized she wasn't going to get Draco in the bed, she added their notches to her bedpost, and they switched tactics, drooling after her and following her everywhere like little pug puppies. Well, maybe not little. They were both giant, overfed, disgusting pigs, and he was afraid they would break his delicate couch.

Unfortunately, he couldn't get rid of them. Pansy had weaseled into his mother's good graces, and whenever Pansy felt like coming over to discuss wedding plans, his mother was all for it. Usually he could stare out the window while the two women droned on and on, but this time Pansy had brought her cronies and his mother had been absent, claiming she was ill. The truth was she was hung-over, but Draco wasn't allowed to tell anyone that, especially someone as rich and high of status as Pansy Parkison.

Goyle grinned and chuckled like a buffoon. "Please Pansy, you've probably fucked him more than either of us combined by now." Eww. Just the thought of fucking Pansy, much less after she had already been with Crabbe and Goyle and countless other men, made the bile rise in his throat. He forced it back down. Pansy was hideous, and a slut. Every time she had made advances he had refused, claiming he did not want to take away her chastity, which they both knew she had long lost. The truth was, Draco was protecting his own virginity. There weren't many things he hadn't done to damn his soul, not that he believed in myths such as eternal salvation or damnation. He had killed, stolen, lied, cheated, oh, and it was a bit hard to overlook the big ugly snake and skull scar on his bicep. But one think Draco hadn't done was have sex, forcefully, the thought of raping somebody appalled him, or by choice. Draco Malfoy, supposed Slytherin sex god, was in actuality, a virgin.

It wasn't that Draco didn't find himself attracted to women or that he believed in waiting until marriage. Draco had just never found _the_ woman. All of the women he had been close to were whores or Death Eaters or both. The only woman he had ever really wanted, in a sexual or romantic way, was Ginny. The thought both shocked and scared him, but he knew denying it would be a lie. He was attracted to Ginny, with her long red tresses, which were finally beginning to shine again, and her small, short frame, which made her look so delicate. Whenever he was near her he felt the urge to wrap his arms around her and protect her from the world, but knew that he could not. Because it would be awkward, and because, as Alex had said, he could not treat her like a child forever.

He wanted to. He watched her growing stronger, slowly, like a newborn, but still she seemed so delicate and innocent. So fragile and broken. To him she deaf and mute and blind. He wanted to be the barrier between her and the rest of the world, wanted to shelter and protect her, wanted to be her eyes and ears and mouth so that nobody could hurt her. But that was wrong. It was wrong to deny her life. In wanting to save her, to shelter her, he was also afraid he would crush her. It was horrible, to walk this thin line, wavering between protecting her and letting her protect herself.

But for now he wouldn't have to worry about that. For now she was technically his, and as much as he hated to use that power, it was all he had. For now he could rule her life, help her through the hard times, be her guardian angel of sorts, even if it meant she was not free. For now, he could tell her what to do and not do, he could shelter her from somebody wanting to hurt her. He was abusing his power over her, but he could not help it. He would never hurt her, but he could not allow someone else to hurt her either. Where he might have once seen her as a burden, he now saw her as his gift, his life, his hope. He lived through her, just as he wanted her to live through him. He lived each passing day to see her eat, to see her grow stronger, to see her glow a little more with life. He was still a long ways away from bringing her back from her cell or knowing her secrets, from making her strong enough to let out into the world, to set free, like a wounded animal he had healed, but each day was progress.

Draco heard a loud laugh, and it woke him from his reverie. He glanced over where Crabbe and Goyle were gaping like fools and Pansy was stomping her foot in anger, glaring. His eyes followed their gaze to land upon Ginny, a tray of tea and little sandwiches in her hands. She balanced it precariously, hoping it would not topple onto the floor. Draco felt his heart stop. He did not want them to meet, did not want Pansy and Crabbe and Goyle to know about her. But now the secret was out.

He glanced back at Crabbe and Goyle. Pansy he could take care of easily enough, but those two were a different matter. They did not respect him or his authority, despite his high rank above them. They cared only for food and sex, whichever was easier at the moment and filled their hunger. And right now, both disgusting, obese, greasy boys were staring at her with lust in their eyes.

Draco glanced again at Ginny as she stepped into the room, her arms shaking from the weight of the tray and wobbling precariously on her shoes. She slowly made her way to the table, setting the tray down. As much as he wanted to, he could not help her. He knew his status, knew he could not appear to care for her, for that would only pique their interests in her more. They would wonder Draco's sudden fondness of his new slave. They might see through to the fact that his feelings for her were more than just lust. He hoped, as one might hope a ferocious wild animal hadn't spotted her and was about to charge, that they wouldn't pay her mind, that she could walk out the door as quickly as she had come in and they could forget about her in a few short seconds.

But, of course as it always seemed to go, Draco's wishes were not granted. "Well, what a pretty little girlie. Why don't you come sit on my lap and pour my tea, sweetie?" Goyle laughed disgustingly, patting his chunky leg.

Ginny stared at him with confusion. Don't do it, Draco thought in his mind, don't go near him. She nodded slowly, seeming to have processed his words, and kneeled down at the small table, pouring his tea. She did not go anywhere near his lap, to Draco's relief, but instead lifted her arms up towards him, the teacup in her hands and her head bowed slightly. She understood that she was a slave, and someone must have taught her what to do, how to present herself. She did not bow low to him, as if she comprehended he was of fairly low ranking status, but still she did as he wished. He only hoped that whatever servant had taught her to pour her masters tea and bow had also taught her that she did not have to do anything perverted asked of her if Draco did not approve.

He could have hit himself for not teaching her these things. He supposed he did not like the idea of her being a servant, and only saw it as a temporary façade. Temporary until when, he wasn't sure. He didn't have any plans, didn't see any way of getting Ginny out of this, but either way he did not like the idea of her being a servant. And he didn't really know much of the rules of being a slave. He guessed Alex had taught her the ropes, or hoped so, and for that he was thankful.

Goyle reached for the tea, but instead grabbed her wrists, pulling her close to him. He grinned at her lecherously as his hand traveled up her arm to grab at her shoulder. "Such a pretty little girlie. A Weasley. When did you grow up, little Weasley." He smiled as he stared down her shirt.

Draco felt his insides burn with rage and his fists clench. It took all of his will to calm his fury and stop from shaking. He wanted to tear the boy's head off, no, his balls off, for that would certainly be more pleasing and a favor to all of society. He wanted to poke his lecherous eyes out of his head. He wanted to tear his violating hands off of Ginny's wrists. He did none of those. Draco forced his voice to be calm as he walked over to Goyle, glaring down at him. "Unhand her, please. She is mine, and only I am allowed to touch her."

Goyle looked surprised for a minute, then irritated, then amused. So he thought this was funny, a joke? Draco would show him just how funny he could be. "C'mon, Draco, share the pretty little girl with your friends. You can't let one like this go to waste, can you?" He did not pull her closer, nor did he let her go. Draco didn't look at Ginny as he grabbed Goyle's hands and pried them off of her easily. He was much stronger than the fat, lazy boys, and Ginny backed up hastily out of reach, to Draco's relief.

"No." It was all he said, but the look in Draco's cold eyes could kill in a heartbeat, and Goyle gulped. He was stupid, but he knew that Draco was powerful, and as much as he hated to be submissive to that power, he would not ignore a blatant order from Draco Malfoy.

Draco glanced over at Ginny, who looked frightened. He was glad he had stopped whatever was going to happen, but now they thought he cared for her. He had to quickly remedy that problem, or they would only attack Ginny again to get at him. He knew the way they thought. Draco had grown up with these people. As much as Crabbe and Goyle fawned over him and Pansy stalked him, they loathed and envied him. They wanted his money and power, and would do anything for it, befriend him, try to have sex with him, marry him, but they would never stop hating him. They all knew that, Draco knew that, they knew that Draco knew that, Draco knew that they knew that he knew that. But they had a cold alliance and a delicate balance of power. Draco was above them. Draco had to keep his status above them, and he could not let them see that he cared for anyone or anything, for they would use it against Draco to hurt him and to hurt anyone close to him.

He glared at Ginny, which seemed to surprise her. She backed away, as if she suddenly didn't know him. She looked confused and scared. "Finish pouring the tea, slave." He said coldly, though his voice wavered on the last word. She lowered her head and kneeled at the table again, pouring three more cups of tea. Draco stood over her like an overseer or protector, he wasn't sure which. She handed Draco and Crabbe their cups without incident, then stood and walked towards Pansy, her hands shaking as all of their eyes followed her.

Pansy stood looking annoyed, her hands on her hips as she glared at Ginny hatefully. "Can't you hurry up a little?" She complained, near yelling. Ginny nodded and tried to step faster. That was when it happened.

Ginny's foot twisted in the heels, short as they were, and she went sprawling. Draco, already standing, lunged to grab her as Crabbe and Goyle watched with amused smirks. He was too late, however, and a flurry of white skirts and red hair and flying tea found the two girls entangled together, Pansy's ugly dress splattered with spiced tea, Ginny's servant outfit clean, though slightly ruffled.

Pansy shrieked in anger and threw Ginny off of her, sending the girl sprawling onto the ground. She began screaming at the redhead. "You stupid, ugly whore! How dare you! This dress cost me thousands of galleons! It was hand made! You fucking bitch! You've ruined it! Now our wedding will have to be delayed to get it fixed, I can't believe you!" Pansy began to cry as she screamed furiously, causing her nose and thick makeup to run, making her look even uglier than before. Ginny stared in horror and fear and Draco felt as though he was frozen on the spot as Pansy picked up the tea kettle and threw it at the girl. It hit Ginny square in the face, wetting her top. Draco could see the steam rise off of her clothing and he knew the tea must be scalding. Ginny tore at her clothes, trying to get them off.

"Pansy!" He screamed, grabbing the girl's hand as she moved to strike Ginny. He pulled Pansy around to face him, his full fury unleashed, his control lost, as was evident in his now smoldering eyes. "How.dare.you. Don't you ever, _ever _touch her again. I don't want to see your ugly face. Get out of my house! **Now**!" He threw the girl, not caring if she got hurt, and she quickly scurried to his fireplace, looking shocked. Crabbe and Goyle were attempting to heave themselves off of the couch slowly, and he wheeled on them, screaming. "Out!" They hurried to the fireplace, perhaps the fastest he had ever seen them move, and pushed Pansy out of the way in an attempt to get away from Draco's wrath as he advanced towards them. His wand had somehow ended up in his hand, and he was clutching it so tightly it might have broken. "Out!" He yelled again. Pansy was the only one left and she sputtered at him as she sobbed, near the fireplace, wavering between leaving and staying. "I don't ever want to see your sorry ass again! I don't want to marry you, you bitch! I don't want to have anything to do with you! Now get out of my room before I hex you!" He raised his wand towards her, not sure if he would do as he threatened or not. Her eyes widened and she glanced behind him where he knew Ginny was laying on the floor tearing at her clothes. "_Don't even look at her!_" Pansy fled his wrath.

They were gone. He stood there for a few minutes, breathing unevenly in an attempt to calm his rage. He heard a stifled, choked sob behind him and remembered Ginny lying on the floor. Draco wheeled around. She had stripped off her clothes, down to her undershirt, and was biting her lip in pain as she curled up in a ball. He stepped towards her and she looked up in fear, her eyes wide like a doe. He had scared her, he knew, with his screaming and threats. He did not know if she understood that he had been protecting her or not, but he knew she was frightened, and he had frightened her. He had protected her, and now she thought he was the monster.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Ginny had thought she had felt pain before, but this pain was horrid. It burned her fresh, pink skin. It was wet and hot and it smelled like cinnamon. And no matter what she did, not matter how many layers she tried to get off, still it singed at her skin.

She wasn't exactly sure how it had happened. Ginny was just doing what she was told. She had been in the bustling kitchen as the servants prepared dinner, standing around with nothing to do. A strong, tall, dark lady came up to her. She was imposing, yet comforting, clearly a leader. It took Ginny a few minutes to realize this lady was her leader. Another person she had to remember, but this woman was not easy to forget.

The woman told her with a calm and soothing but authoritative voice to take tea up to Mister Malfoy's room. Ginny knew that was what they called Draco. And she knew that Draco was what they called her mercury eyed savior. She was happy to do carry the tray of steaming tea up to his room. It gave her something to do, and besides, this way she could see him again.

She liked to see Draco. He was nice, and pretty to look at. His eyes, no matter how many times she stared at them, into them, never changed from that lovely mercury color. And his hair, as incredible as it sounded, was always so pale and shiny and silky. She liked the way his eyes looked and his hair felt and she liked to be around him. He gave her a sensation of safety, of calm, of comfort. She didn't know what it meant, but she liked it, and she liked him.

But Draco hadn't been alone. A lady and two huge men were there. The lady was not pretty like Draco. She was very ugly. Ginny felt as if she recognized her from somewhere, but she could not be sure where. Not only that, the girl had been wearing a huge, puffy white dress that made her look like a fat cloud about to blow away in the breeze.

The tray was getting heavy now. It was hard for her arms to support and so she set it down quickly on the table, thankful for relief. But somebody was talking, one of the men, his voice like hollow wood. Something about the tea. Was there something wrong with the tea? No, she realized, he wanted her to pour it. Ginny could do this. Alex had taught Ginny how to pour the tea so she did not burn herself. She wanted to show Draco what she had learned, she felt so proud, but the man, the man grabbed her.

Ginny was frightened. Up close he smelled funny and she could see the grease on his face, like a piece of meat that had been baked in fat. His eyes were like little marbles in the folds of angry face, and she knew that she had seen him before, that he was a student at Hogwarts, the school she had attended in her past life. She ignored the thought of Hogwarts, ignored the memories it threatened to bring back, and instead stared into those frightening bug eyes as he said something to her, food spitting out of his mouth.

And then Draco was there, ripping the man's fat hands from her wrists, yelling at the man. Ginny was glad. Draco, her mercury-eyed guardian, had come to her rescue again. Or so she thought. Draco wheeled on her. His eyes were dark with an emotion she did not understand, but knew could only mean trouble, and those eyes were directed at her. He was angry at her. He told her to do something, to pour the tea, called her a slave. Slave? Was that what she was? She remembered what that word meant, but she didn't understand why he called her that. Draco was her friend, then why was he treating her like he was her master? He was her protector, then why was he glaring at her so hatefully? She did as she was told. She poured the tea. She gave it to Draco, hoping he would be less angry with her gift, and to the other man.

And then it happened. The event that set off the entire chain reaction, that left her where she was now, on the floor clutching her burned chest. She stepped towards the girl, but her feet felt unstable, and her ankle wobbled. It felt like slow motion as her heart sped up and she tried to catch herself, only to go sprawling forward. Her vision tilted as the ground moved up to meet her. Luckily, or so she thought at the time, a cushion of itchy fabric caught her fall. But the fabric had somebody in it, thrashing around, pushing her to the ground. And then the pain, the unbearable pain, and a voice screeching like metal, and it hurt so bad, and then he was yelling, he had become a monster, her guardian was yelling and throwing things and his cold mercury eyes were dark, stormy clouds. She was afraid and in so much pain. Ginny did not care that the people were gone, even though she was thankful for it, because now the monster was advancing towards her. She backed up, crawling, trying to get away from him. He had yelled at them, he had a wand in his hand, he was going to attack her next. Ginny closed her eyes, squeezed them shut, in the hope that he would go away.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x

"Ginny? Please Ginny, stop crying, I'm not going to hurt you, I promise, please calm down." She was crying again, and her eyes were shut tight. Her clothes were gone, and though her body shuddered involuntarily in pain, he knew she was more afraid than hurt. Before he could even look at the burns he had to calm her down, to let her understand he was her friend. "Ginny, look at me." He put some authority into his voice, as much as he could without scaring her more. She opened her eyes slowly, staring at his shirt. He lowered her face, meeting her eyes with his. He hoped he looked as pleading as he felt. "Ginny, it's just me. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I scared you. I was trying to protect you. When I yelled at you…it was just because I didn't want them to know I cared about you. You probably don't understand, but you see, I wanted to pretend I don't care about you, that way, they would just leave you alone. But it didn't work. I'm sorry about what Pansy did. I made her leave. I was never mad at you, I was furious at what Pansy did by hurting you and Goyle by grabbing you like that. If you'll let me look at your chest, then I can heal the burns so they don't hurt anymore."

He knew she didn't follow everything he said, but after some pleading she finally lowered her arms. Draco winced at the sight. Her chest, covered in old scars, was beginning to blister. The soft skin of her small breasts was bright red, and he could see she was clearly pained by the cool air that hit them. She tried to move her arms up again to cover the wounds, but he kept them by her side. Thankfully, Draco knew a spell for burns. He had used it whenever his father decided he needed to learn a lesson and beat or burned him. Draco lifted his wand, muttering the spell. Her burns quickly healed, leaving the flesh a healthy glow. Draco adverted his eyes as he pulled her torn shirt around her exposed chest.

She still looked frightened, though, he realized upon looking back at her eyes. She stared at him as if she didn't know who or what he was, as if she had never seen him before, as if he were a monster. "Ginny," he reached out a hand to touch her, but she shied away from him, and Draco was surprised by how much the simple action hurt. "Ginny, please, it's just me. Draco. It's Draco, Ginny, your friend Draco." She was staring at him apprehensively. Draco let out a sigh. "Don't you even know who I am?" He tried to keep the whine out of his voice, but he was exhausted and drained and he just wanted so much for her to at least stop freaking out around him, to be comfortable around him. He realized one thing now: he would never let her go. Maybe it was wrong to shelter and protect her like a child, but he had to. She was too vulnerable on her own. Even after she was strong enough to look after herself, he would always protect her, whether she wanted it or not, whether she thought of him as a guardian or a stalker. He could not help this over protectiveness of her, nor did he care to. "Do you remember me at all? Do you recognize me at all? Draco, Ginny, I'm Draco."

"Draco." He froze, staring at her. Had she spoken? No, he realized quickly, she had not spoken in the way normal people spoke. Had the room not been so deadly quiet he wouldn't have heard her at all, though he wondered if he wasn't just making it up in his head in the first place.

"Did…did you just talk? Did you just say something?!" He smiled at her, grabbing her face in his hands. He tried to ignore how perfectly her small face fit into his equally small, elegant hands. "Say it again, Ginny. Say something again."

She looked as surprised as he did, and not nearly so ecstatic. She swallowed before opening her mouth, her eyes squinted, and whispered, the sound no more than the rushing of air out of her lungs, "Draco." He knew she wasn't truly speaking, but rather pushing the air out of her mouth as her lips formed around the syllables, but he was thrilled anyway. She had said something. Ginny had said his name. It was the first time she had spoken, and she had said his name.


	6. Ginny's Eyes

A/N: Sorry this update is a bit late. I try to get the chapters uploaded on Friday or Saturday, but it's Sunday evening, almost midnight, and I'm just now finishing the chapter when I should be studying for finals. So thank me:P The song is "In Your Eyes" by Peter Gabriel. I got the lyrics from azlyrics. It's a beautiful song, incredibly well written and very moving, and I suggest you listen to it while reading the ballroom scene.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Draco swallowed, flicked off an imaginary piece of lint from his jacket, and knocked crisply on the door. A terse "Enter" sounded from inside the room. He took a deep breath and turned the handle, opening the door to his mother's sitting room. She was lounging on a couch while an artist, some or other wizard that had been put out of his job by the Dark Lord's Reign, painted her.

His mother was the picture of icy beauty. After all, he did get his looks from her. The Ice Queen, the Death Eaters called her behind her back. She knew of the name, though they didn't know that she knew, and she let them fear her wrath as they would the Dark Lord's. His mother was tall and elegant with pointed features. Her long blonde hair, almost white, like Draco's, fell down past her mid-back, almost reaching to the top of her bum. She was a shapely woman with an hourglass figure that many Death Eaters' eyes lingered on, to Draco's annoyance. And she knew she was beautiful, too. She looked down on everyone and everything, even the Dark Lord, he supposed, though she dutifully kissed his shoes just like every other Death Eater. She had the ranking of a high Death Eater and had done none of the work to get it, but instead flaunted around coldly and barked out orders occasionally.

But Narcissa Malfoy was only good looks. True, she could throw a nasty hex when she felt like it, but she had bodyguards to do her dirty work and Lucius to beat Draco for her. Without Lucius, Narcissa Malfoy would be nothing. She lived and survived by leeching off of his power, just as Draco did, in a way. But Draco was unwillingly the son and heir of his father, whereas Narcissa had fought and clawed her way into Lucius's bed and never left.

"James, darling, you can leave for a moment. I must have a private conversation with my son." The painter nodded and left, but not before bowing low to Draco's mother. Draco closed the door behind him with the wave of a hand. "Still doing parlor tricks like that, Draco? Have you learned the Cruciatus, yet, or do you still enjoy lighting candles by waving your hands over them?"

Draco ignored her comments. "You summoned me, Mother?" He said coldly, standing tall and still, despite the fact that she offered him a seat. She did not bother to get up from where she lounged on the couch.

"Yes. I had a conversation with Pansy Parkison this morning, and I must say the girl was quite irate." Draco grimaced but did not reply. He knew his mother had more to say. "She said your serving girl, that Weasley, spilled tea all over her dress. The thing was ghastly, I'll admit, but still expensive. She was distraught, as any girl would be, however, when she went to duly punish your servant, you began to yell and scream and throw things. Do I have everything right, my dear?" Draco nodded briskly, his eyes focused out the window. His mother narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you even listening?" She stood angrily, striding towards him. "One, you did not properly punish your servant as you should have. You know that they must be punished when they do wrong, they are no smarter than dogs. Now it will think it can just go throwing tea on any nobility it likes. And two, you yelled at your fiancé. You two are to be married in just a few months-"

"No, we are not." Draco said crisply, staring down at his mother, who, despite her height, was still shorter than himself.

She lifted an eyebrow. "What did you say to me?"

"I said we are not to be married. I broke off the engagement. I never wanted to marry that disgusting whore anyway." Draco lifted his chin and kept his face impassive.

"Would you like to me inform your father of your new plans? I'm sure he would be more than a bit upset." When Draco didn't answer, Narcissa smiled, though her eyes showed just how angry she was. "Draco, that woman is your betrothed, and you _will_ marry her, do you understand me? You do not have a choice in the matter."

Draco's hands clenched into fists. "Yes, Mother," he said through tight lips.

She nodded and returned to the couch. "And I want to see your slave. I want her properly punished for what she did. She must learn her place in this household."

Draco glared at his mother. "That I cannot allow. She is my slave and I will punish her as I see fit." The power struggle began again as the two stared each other down.

"I would hate to think you are becoming soft, Draco." She muttered, her eyes scrutinizing him. Draco kept his face impassive. He would not let his mother know of his feelings for Ginny.

"Of course not. Just possessive. You will not touch my slave, mother. If I find out you did…" He let the threat hang, more because he couldn't think of anything particularly threatening to say to the Ice Queen that would scare her. "Good day, Mother."

Draco turned with a flourish and stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. He waited until he was in his private quarters, on the other end of the mansion, before he let out a scream of fury.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

"Giiiinnyyyy?! Giiiinnyyyy!" Ginny looked up from where she had been dusting one of the long, thick curtains that hung along the hallway Draco's room was on. Alex was there, the woman with the kind voice and nice smile. She lowered the feather duster and looked questioningly at Alex. "C'mon, Master and Mistress Malfoy aren't home. Nobody will bother us if we skip working today." Master and Mistress? She did not remember meeting these people that owned her and Alex. Were they her Masters? Or was Draco her master?

Alex took her hand and led her down winding hallways. Ginny began to feel lost. A lot of it looked the same. Dark stone floors, dark stone walls, large, colorful tapestries in green and black and silver, huge glass windows that looked out over the property, and thick, lush carpets. Alex stopped before a large stone door, smiling at Ginny. She pushed the huge door open, revealing the cold room Ginny had been brought to just a few weeks ago. The room was still the same, bright, polished marble floors, a huge chandelier, presently unlit, a throne chair flanked by two smaller chairs, tables pushed to the side for food and gifts, and a grand piano in the corner. The white marble walls were as clean and bright as they had been then, the marble pillars still engraved with the angels and demons and fairies, all the same.

Yet, the room seemed different now. Now it was empty and dark except for the natural sunlight shining in through the huge glass windows that stretched up to the high, vaulted ceiling. Cold, cruel people dressed in rich, colorful fabrics no longer crowded in the room, glaring and leering and gossiping. The place was silent of their harsh voices that drowned out the music. The floor was not as bright and cold, shining on all her scars and imperfections, without the chandelier lit. Presently, she could almost call it peaceful. If it wasn't for those memories of her first visit here.

Alex grinned at her and walked into the room. She stopped before the large throne, looking back at Ginny quickly with a wicked expression, before flouncing up the carpeted steps to where it was raised above the rest of the room. She turned to the empty room, curtsying in her maid's outfit, and sat in the throne, lounging out. "I bet old Voldemort would have a fit if he saw us now."

Ginny walked silently into the room, staring around her at the huge, beautiful room. She stepped into a streak of light shining in from the window. It hit her hair, making it shine brightly like fire, and illuminated her pale skin. She appeared to glow in the light like an angel. Alex could almost imagine two huge white wings springing out of her back. She was as delicate as a doll, and looked all the more one for her maid's outfit. Alex stared in amazement as Ginny's huge eyes looked around in wonder.

Alex jumped up, moving towards the grand piano. She forced herself to look away from Ginny's form in the sunlight streaming into the window; it was too lovely. Alex felt an awkward blush rise to her cheeks, and broke the silence that was only uncomfortable to her by saying "Come here, I want to show you something."

She heard Ginny's small steps walk towards her and waited until the girl stood beside her before sitting down at the piano, fingers poised over the keys. She closed her eyes for a moment before she began to play a quick, fun tune. "Now watch this." Alex pulled her hands away from the keys, but they continued to play. She opened her eyes, smiling in pride. "It worked! I've been practicing so hard to do that. I've missed magic so much, so doing little things like this is just…empowering." She noticed Ginny's confused look. "Haven't you wondered why you didn't get a wand when you came here? Why none of the slaves have wands? Ginny, mudbloods and blood traitors are refused wands. We're punished if we're caught doing magic. Bloody Death Eaters, they claim we stole our magic. If we're caught using magic, it must be magic that's been stolen from a fullblood, someone who truly deserves to use it." Alex's face turned back up into a smile. "But enough of that. Let's dance."

Alex jumped up, grabbing Ginny's hand and pulling her into the middle of the ballroom. She spun Ginny in a circle before dancing herself. Ginny tried to keep up with her moves, though her balance was still off, and Alex began to sing, her voice reverberating off the high marble ceiling.

love I get so lost, sometimes

days pass and this emptiness fills my heart

when I want to run away

I drive off in my car

but whichever way I go

I come back to the place you are

all my instincts, they return

and the grand facade, so soon will burn

without a noise, without my pride

I reach out from the inside

in your eyes

the light the heat

in your eyes

I am complete

in your eyes

I see the doorway to a thousand churches

in your eyes

the resolution of all the fruitless searches

in your eyes

I see the light and the heat

in your eyes

oh, I want to be that complete

I want to touch the light

the heat I see in your eyes

love, I don't like to see so much pain

so much wasted and this moment keeps slipping away

I get so tired of working so hard for our survival

I look to the time with you to keep me awake and alive

and all my instincts, they return

and the grand facade, so soon will burn

without a noise, without my pride

I reach out from the inside

in your eyes

the light the heat

in your eyes

I am complete

in your eyes

I see the doorway to a thousand churches

in your eyes

the resolution of all the fruitless searches

in your eyes

I see the light and the heat

in your eyes

oh, I want to be that complete

I want to touch the light,

the heat I see in your eyes

in your eyes in your eyes

in your eyes in your eyes

in your eyes in your eyes

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Draco could hear music and singing from down the hall. Who in this house would be singing? He realized it must be one of the slaves, for his parents were gone, and he didn't expect them to play music unless it was chamber music. As he drew closer he recognized the voice to be Alex's.

Draco peeked his head around the door, staring in wonder. Ginny and Alex were dancing as the piano was played by a phantom pianist. Alex was singing, twirling Ginny around and dancing in circles with the girl, their hands interlocked. Vaguely, in the back of his mind, Draco realized how ironic, and appropriate, the song was for Ginny. Her eyes were like the depths of the ocean, but a brown so dark they looked almost black at times, and at others they shone with a bright brown, beautiful hazel hue, as if all the light in the world was shining from them. He realized he had come to live on a day to day basis to see her eyes, to see how much brighter and happier they got, to see the world reflected in them.

Suddenly the music stopped, and Draco's eyes drifted from Ginny over to Alex, who was staring directly at him with a mixture of shock and horror and fear as she worried her bottom lip. Draco lifted an eyebrow.

"I…I am so sorry…We…It was my fault. I did the magic. Ginny has nothing to do with it."

Draco stepped into the room, glancing over at the piano, which had gone silent. Ahh, so that's what she was blabbering about. He shrugged noncommittally. "Why should I care what you do?" She still looked worried, which annoyed him. "I'm not going to punish you or even get you in trouble. Nobody has to know. So you used magic. The wizarding world will go on. That's a fairly nifty trick there, actually. I commend you."

Alex blushed staring at her feet. "Yes, well, either way, we'll just be leaving." She grabbed Ginny's hand, heading towards the door.

Draco drew his wand, stopping both of them in their tracks. He pointed it at the piano, and it began to play the tune again. "Continue." When she did not move, he sighed and asked "Please."

Draco sat on one of the steps, watching. Alex was embarrassed to dance in front of him, but Ginny was pulling on her sleeve with an expectant look. Alex smiled at the girl and twirled her around. The song was ended, but still she continued to hum, then sing a few notes, no actual words, for there were none left to sing. Draco twirled his wand between his fingers, sparks leaving it. The chandelier suddenly lit up, making Ginny look up in wonder as Alex spun her around. Another flick of his wrist, and the girls began to rise off of the floor. Ginny looked amazed and enthralled, and Alex glanced over at Draco, nodding her thanks.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Ginny had the sudden feeling of lifting off of the ground. She glanced over at her hair, which was sticking up as if it were full of static. Her clothes too began to lift slightly as her body rose higher off the ground, her toes dancing on the air. The feeling off weightlessness was both frightening and enthralling at the same time. Alex spun her out, letting her go, and she continued to spin slowly, as if through water, rising ever higher. If there had been any people in the room, she would have not have been able to grace their heads with her feet.

She flew towards Alex, meeting her in the middle, and the girls spun when they clashed. Their bodies entwined like those of angels, and they looked just as serene. Alex grabbed Ginny by the waist, lifting her up and throwing her into the air. Ginny flew at the Chandelier, graced it with her fingers, came to sit on it. She looked down at Alex as the girl rose towards her, her arms outstretched, the sun blazing on her as she sang with closed eyes.

Ginny felt a twitching in her mouth. The muscle spasmed again. Her lips lifted at the edge. Her eyes crinkled in the corners. She felt a feeling of euphoria as her mouth lifted up, her lips parting to reveal her teeth, a soft, barely audible giggle leaving her mouth.

Draco was standing, staring at her, as was Alex. She lifted her hand to her mouth in awe, feeling the way it curved up so strangely. She knew this feeling, this happiness. She knew the way her mouth lifted, the way the breath left her lungs. She remembered smiling, laughing, being happy. She had done it before. She was doing it now.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Draco's heart flip-flopped in his chest. He knew his jaw was hanging down to the floor, but he couldn't help it. She looked like an angel, sitting up in the chandelier, glowing in the light streaming in through the window. Her hair lifted around her head like a fiery halo and her large brown eyes sparkled as her lips pulled up into a smile. She was an angel, there was no doubt about it. The lack of wings did not deter him from his belief. And she was laughing, a quiet, small laugh, like music to his ears, more melodious than any song he had ever heard.

At that moment, when he saw her smile, Draco realized he was in love.


	7. Memories

A/N: Okay, so, I have some apologies to make. Sorry for not posting until now, I know it's a bit late, and sorry that I won't be able to post later this week, since I'm going out of town to see my boyfriend. Holidays are so hectic! However, I did finally get this chapter done, and it's a little bit longer that my others, and has lots of drama! There's a lot of background story about Ginny and Blaise in here, so enjoy!

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Ginny stared at the room around her. Black and red, black and red, it was all she could see. How did she end up here, again? For the past few weeks he had not visited her, and perhaps she believed, hoped, vainly, that it was all just a bad dream, that it wasn't real, that he wasn't really back.

A chuckle sounded behind her, cold, cruel. She turned to see him standing there, handsome as ever, but he had lost all physical appeal to her. Many women, if they didn't know who he truly was, would swoon over him if they ever had the chance to meet him. He was beautiful, in a cold, unattainable way. His raven hair hung messily in his face, no longer kept in the old fashioned style of his teenage years. His eyes, so dark they looked black, much like her own, though in his were a glint of evil passion and desire. Like the room around them, his dark black orbs shone red when he was angry, though he rarely got angry with her. No, he kept his anger in check around her, instead showing her a much worse side. He was tall, towering over her ominously, and covered in lean muscles that peeked out of his half unbuttoned black shirt. All in all, Tom Riddle was devilishly handsome.

Tom stepped closer, his slender, manicured hand reaching out and taking a strand of her red hair. He wrapped it around his fingers, brought it to his nose, smelled the fragrance of her shampoo as if sniffing the rich aroma of a fine wine. Ginny could not contain the shudder that passed through her, which made him chuckle.

"Ginevra, why do you shy away from me so?" He stepped closer, his arms snaking around her waist, his hand resting on the small of her back. She arched her back, unfortunately causing her chest to brush his, in an attempt to free herself from his cold touch. This was the side of him she knew, the side she hated, this gentle, caressing man, who confused her with his gentle voice and soft kisses. She knew who he truly was, yet he toyed with her mind, never showing her rage or hate, always dominating her with his aristocratic, horrible smirk. His hand dropped her hair, caressed her face, and she turned away. "We have been together for six years now, and yet you still try to ignore me, to get rid of me."

His breath was soft and cool in her ear, his kisses romantic on her neck. Ginny closed her eyes, remembering what she wanted for so long to forget. Memories of her past life flooded her vision, engulfed her, and she became overwhelmed with their power.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Ginny Weasley was a very unextraordinary girl. She had grown up fairly poor in a house with six brothers and her loving mother and father. She had had a crush on the great Harry Potter, like many girls her age. The most adventurous thing she had ever done was actually more stupid than extraordinary, opening up the Chamber of Secrets. She was not extremely attractive, at thirteen Ginny Weasley was an average girl, a bit on the short side, with flaming red hair, dull brown eyes, chubby cheeks, an small breasts. There was nothing at all interesting about the freckled little girl who had once dreamed of herself as a beautiful adult woman standing beside Harry Potter, a wedding ring on her finger, and little children running around her. Except for the fact that she heard voices.

Or, one voice rather. The voice of the preserved soul of the youth of the most evil wizard known to wizard kind, to be exact. It was true. Although Harry had stabbed the diary with the Basilisk fang, Tom Riddle had already become intertwined with her soul. She was his backup, his lifeline, and when the diary was destroyed, she became the new vessel for the remains of his weakened soul, or so she had later learned from him after he had regained enough strength to visit her.

What an interesting day that was. Just a short month after being freed from the handsome best friend who had only wanted to kill her, Ginny Weasley fell asleep to find herself lost in a dream world he had created. Then it was the Chamber, for that was the easiest thing he could create in her mind, having been a place that actually existed and he had visited many times. Ginny was frightened to say the least. She easily broke from the dream, waking drenched in sweat and screaming, hoping she was not going insane and that the nightmare was just a nightmare. She had reported it to her parents, and although they were worried, they convinced her she was merely experiencing Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. She believed them. For a while.

But the dreams continued throughout the summer, becoming more and more vivid and realistic, and by the time school started back, she was hearing his voice in her mind, even when she was awake. By winter holidays, he had grown strong enough and learned enough to manifest himself before her, like a phantom or a ghost, see-through, dim, a bit spotchy at times, but still there. He wasn't physical, at least, not for another few years had he managed to be physical to her, caressing her hair with his hands and kissing her cheeks, but she could see him, outside her dreams, outside her body, and it was altogether frightening.

Frightening though it was, they learned to live with each other, tolerate one another, even become friends of a sort. True, he had tried to kill her. True he was stuck in her mind with no way out, trapped, and for that he resented her. True, they fought and played games with each other's minds constantly, but they were dependent on each other, and humans have an extraordinary way of adapting to their situations, horrid as they may be. So Ginny and Tom adapted, for that was all they could do. They quickly made a truce, quickly stopped trying to kill each other (Tom) or run away from each other (Ginny).

Tom helped her with her classwork, for he was incredibly intelligent, whereas she was a bit dim when it came to tests and homework. She came to rely on him, not feeling guilty for cheating, at least not after the few first times she did it. Her parents and brothers had been worried over her bad grades, always asking what was wrong, and so getting good marks quickly stopped their nagging, turned their eyes away from her problems, from her secrets, which she wanted to keep to herself. In return for his help, Ginny kept him company, sat in front of dull books for hours, staring out the window as he read them, asking her quietly to flip the page whenever need be. Sure, he was physical to her, but only to her, and in the real world he was like a ghost, unable to touch anything without exhausting himself and thus disappearing. She obliged, letting him read the long books as she contemplated life.

They became friends, of sorts. Ginny never fully trusted Tom, and Tom never stopped resenting her for trapping him in her body. With time, he became gentle, softer, showing her a side she was sure nobody had seen before, a side which frightened her. She would rather him be hateful to her than so passionately cool and collected and, one might say, loving. He protected her, watched over her. He controlled her. She became a slave to him just as he was to her. They were bound to each other for eternity, or so Ginny believed.

Until that fateful night when the Death Eater's stormed her house.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

"No!" Ginny screamed, shaking with sobs. "I don't want to remember anymore! Stop! Stop Tom!"

He looked at her with a hard expression on her face. "It is for the better, Ginevra, that you remember your past. You can not run from it forever. It will come back to you."

"No! Please, no Tom!" She was on the floor, she realized, tears staining her fine dress, her hands over her ears, trying to shut out the memories of her mother's screaming. "Not that! I don't want to remember that night!"

"You must remember, Ginevra! You must face it if you wish to become stronger! Face it and move on!" He cared for her, she knew that was why he was doing this. As much as he hated her, he cared for her, which only made him hate her more. He resented that he loved her so much. But his love was horrible to be on the receiving end of.

"No, Tom! Let me go!" She screamed, thumping her fists against his chest. He knew what she meant; they both did. She wanted him to release her from this dream world, the room he had created over the years, filled with a bed and lush carpeting and rows of books he had already read and memorized, kept for rereading when he grew bored. He had spent a lot of energy on creating this room for them, so much that there was nothing beyond it, no door leading to anywhere else, nothing above or below the ceiling and floor.

He stopped, he held her close, cradling her in his arms. "I am sorry. Forgive me, Ginevra, I only care for your wellbeing. Sleep now, my love, you need your rest." He brought her to the bed, laying her down, holding her close. She huddled in his arms as he stroked her hair, whispering lovingly in her ear. "My dear, you cannot hold those memories, this monster as you call it, locked away forever."

She rolled over, her back to him, though she did not push him away. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer. Their hearts beat in unison, for their shared one heart, one body, one soul, one mind. She closed her eyes. "You know that the monster of which I speak is you, Tom. You are the one I wish to keep locked away."

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

"So, you love her. The question is, what do you plan on doing about it?" Blaise asked Draco as they sat on his balcony, looking out over the gardens.

Draco heaved a huge sigh, laying his head against the seat back. He closed his eyes against the bright sunlight that shone on his face. "I don't know, Blaise. It…it just feels so wrong. To feel this for her. She's so different from me, practically a stranger. We know nothing about her and she isn't revealing it anytime soon and…and she just seems so distant. As if I can never reach her, never get through to her."

Blaise nodded slowly and said, in his quiet voice, pausing before he spoke, as was characteristic of him, "It couldn't be any more wrong than my relationship with Cécile was."

There was a pregnant silence as they both thought back to the event, to the scandal that surrounded the Zabini family, to the scandalous romance Blaise was involved in. "You know I respect you for that, Blaise. For admitting your love. You know that there was no other way out…you had to do it."

Blaise laughed darkly, staring at his hands, tears forming in the boy's usually dry eyes. "Stop lying, Draco. There were plenty of other, much nobler, options. I was weak, and I chose the easy way out."

Draco did not say anything, he could not deny what his friend had admitted. It was true. It was horrid, what Blaise had been through, what he had done. But it was done now, and the boy had been trying to live with it for the past year.

"I don't see what was so scandalous about it. I admire you for admitting your love, despite what your parents and the world thought of it," came a female voice from behind them. They both turned, wands drawn, to see Alex standing there. Upon seeing the wands, she looked worried and a bit shocked, and curtsied low to them. "My apologies, I shouldn't have been eavesdropping, but I could not help but overhear."

Draco lowered his wand and Blaise followed suit. "No, don't apologize. You say you admire me, do you Alex? Do you know the whole story surrounding my love with Cécile?" Blaise sat bitterly in his chair, his dark eyes shadowed as he stared away from her.

She shook her head, sitting in the seat Draco offered. "No…just the rumors. That you fell in love with your stepsister, but your parents beat you for it, said it was wrong. I don't think it was wrong." She lay a hand on his, smiling gently at him, but he turned his face away, making her smile drop. "I think love is unconditional and can happen between anyone. I don't think things like race or sex or relation should matter. So what if she was your sister?"

Blaise smiled darkly. "Then you barely know anything. You know that she died, don't you? But I am sure you do not know how she died. I am sure once you hear, you will not find me so noble for loving her."

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

"I love you," Blaise whispered in Cécile's ear, kissing her neck. He trailed his hands down her bare body, her mocha colored flesh perfect and flawless. Her face was soft, her bright green eyes like emeralds, her hair silky and black.

She moaned at his touch, arching her body into him as he slid gently inside of her. "B-Blaise. Faster!"

He could feel her getting wetter, and he had to hold back a groan of pleasure as she whispered his name. "Shhh," he put a finger to her lips. "We must be quiet, we do not want to wake them, Mon Cerise. Soon, we will not have to worry about waking them."

She smiled at him and he captured her lips with his. His hands tangled in her long, silky hair and he became lost in her, so lost that he did not hear footsteps coming towards his room, did not hear his mother opening the door, though he did hear her scream of fury. Blaise was ripped away from his love, thrown to the floor, his nakedness exposed as his sister stared at his furious mother in fright. "You whore! How dare you bed my son! You are his sister! That is disgusting! You are no longer my daughter!"

Blaise wrapped a blanket around himself and pulled his mother's arm back from striking Cécile. "No Mother! Calm down! Please, we are in love!"

Pain enveloped him as her fist collided with his nose. Blood squirted onto his lips and chin, and Blaise knew his nose was broken. "You…how can you say that! That is shameful, wrong! You can not love your sister!"

"She is only my stepsister, Mother, and soon she shall be my wife!" He glared at her as her eyes widened in surprise and she gaped at him. "Not as if it matters to you, you will kill her father in the next year, just like you did all your other husbands. You only married him for his money and will, after all." He heard Cécile's astonished gasp as she stared at his traitorous mother. His mother shrieked and whipped out her wand, casting a spell at Blaise before he could react. His world went dark as he passed out.

Blaise awoke to a dark cell. He knew where he was immediately: in the Malfoy's underground dungeon. He sat up with a groan, feeling his head. Why, why had this happened? He had fallen in love with Cécile, despite how much the both of them denied their love for so long. Just five months ago his mother had married again, claiming a new, rich husband as soon as she'd spent all the money from her last late husband's will. He and Cécile met for the first time at their parents' wedding, and could not deny the attraction between them. She found his tall, dark, handsome body and aristocratic attitude alluring, whereas he was attracted to her innocent smile and French accent and sweet heart. Living together only fed the chemistry between them, and soon they were kissing in the shadows and meeting in each other's rooms in the dead of night, always keeping their relationship a secret from their parents. Draco was the only one that knew of their love, and he kept his lips tightly shut, as Blaise knew he would.

And there Draco was, just as Blaise began to think of him. He looked left and right before creeping closer to Blaise's cell, a bundle under his arms. "Here, Blaise, I've got your clothes…and your robe."

"Robe?" Blaise asked, sitting up. "I haven't got one, I'm not-"

"Your Initiation Ceremony is tonight." Draco whispered, looking worried. "They told me to bring your stuff. Soon the guards will be here to let you out…Blaise, I've got the keys, I stole them from my father."

"I thought they would have postponed the Initiation because of what happened. How is Cécile? Did she get away from my mother?"

Draco shook his head. "Please, Blaise, put these on and go with me. We can escape before the ceremony." They had never talked of running away before, though they both secretly wanted to. Those words were blasphemous, and if the Dark Lord ever found out, they would be tortured, maybe even killed.

"What do you mean 'no'? She is still with my mother? Is she hurt?" Draco didn't answer, swallowing deeply. "She is. She is with my mother and she is hurt, isn't she?"

Draco nodded slowly. "They're gonna make you do something horrible, mate. After how you embarrassed your parents like that. Just escape, I can get Cécile later. Just go!" Draco and Blaise looked up at the sound of voices. "Hurry, mate!"

Blaise shook his head, looking grim. "Hide. I have to go get Cécile. I have to make sure she is okay." Draco stared at him, shaking his head to protest as the voices grew closer. He heard a lock jingle, and threw the clothes at Blaise, backing up into the shadows. Blaise pulled them on as the Death Eater's, robed in all black, their white masks covering their eyes, stepped in. They unlocked the cage and pulled Blaise out roughly and along the corridor, and he looked back at his friend in the shadows.

Blaise would later learn that Draco had followed, climbing into a vent and watching out the iron grate at the room. His father had taught him to do this, lest he ever needed to spy for his father. He watched the following proceedings in horror.

Blaise was yanked into the room and thrown to his knees before the Dark Lord. He bowed low, his face touching the ground, but looked up quickly at the sound of his sister's cries. He saw her on the ground, her clothing torn, a Death Eater towering over her with a grin. "Cécile!" he yelled, before he could stop himself. She looked up with her bruised and beaten face, her once flawless skin now covered in dried blood and scars.

"Ahh, how sssweet, the two loversss meet again." Cécil shuddered at the Dark Lord's hissing voice, but Blaise did well to stay collected. "Your mother hasss proposssed a mossst interesssting Initiation for you, Zabini."

"And what would that be, My Lord?" Blaise asked, bowing his head, as he inwardly froze in terror. He knew his mother, knew the ruthless murderer that she was, knew she would not feel any remorse for Cécile's death. If anything, she would enjoy killing Cécile after Blaise and his sister embarrassed her by falling in love.

"Asss you know, Blaise Zabini, your Initiation Ceremony is a chance for you to prove your loyalty to me. Thisss isss the ultimate tessst of your devotion." The Dark Lord strode over to his sister, and Blaise's heart dropped. "Kill her! Kill your sssister, and join my ranksss. Fail to do ssso, and you both shall die."

His breath stopped as he stared into her sister's fearful eyes. She crawled towards him, and the light struck her face, highlighting swollen lips, bruised eyes, torn hair, dried blood. Cécile collapsed before him, and he heard his mother's dark laughter. "That's what you get, you bitch! And you! How dare you embarrass me by fucking your sister, your sister! It's wrong, and it's disgraceful! This is your punishment, you freak!"

Cécile's hand reached towards him, a small smile on her broken face, and he took it, cradling her close. "Kill her! Kill her!" the Dark Lord's voice rang in his mind. "Kill her or you both shall die!"

The world was spinning, and in the center, all that mattered, was him and Cécile. He loved her. He could not possibly live without her. "C-Cécile…please…please tell me what to do." Blaise could feel tears running down his face, dripping onto hers.

Cécile smiled at him, but it was a small, sad smile. He tried to shake his head, but she rested her hand on his face, brought it to his wand. "Do it. I'm so tired, Blaise. Th-they raped me. They beat me. It hurts. I-I just want to die. Kill me…and then join me, where we can be free."

He nodded, kissing her lips, and as their lips touched he whispered against her mouth the two words that would ruin his life. "Where we can be free. Avada...Kedavra."

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Draco placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, who had begun to shake with silent sobs. He looked over to see that Alex was crying as well, her hands covering her eyes. "I…I'm so sorry…Blaise…I didn't know…"

"Now do you believe that what I did was so noble? Now do you believe that love is so pure and innocent that it can withstand anything? Love…it only brings pain. In the end, all it leaves you with is hurt when the one you love dies."

Alex lowered her hands, staring at him in shock and disbelief. "But…she asked you to be with her…and you're still…you're still alive."

Blaise stood, wiping his tears away. He looked away from her, out over the gardens, the wind whipping his long dreadlocks out of his face. "Yes. I am. But that is only because I must redeem myself. I feel I can never be forgiven for my sins. Unlike Cécile, I never believed in a god or a heaven or sins or any such rubbish." He heaved a heavy sigh. "But if this heaven is where she is, then that is where I will go. And so I must redeem myself for what I have done, so that I can die and be with her. Where we can be free."


	8. Memories Part 2

A/N: So, here's the next chapter. Sorry it's a bit late, hope everyone likes it! Any questions or comments or errors that you find, just send me a review! Thanks!

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

"Ginny, you can come out now," Draco said, motioning his hand at the door without turning to look. He saw her poke her head out of the curtain where she had been hiding from the corner of his eye. He chuckled, telling her to sit. "It's okay if you were listening. But you don't have to eavesdrop. There's nothing wrong with sitting down and listening to Blaise's story."

Blaise had left quickly after finishing his tale, saying that he needed to get home. Alex, upset over the story, had also excused herself to set the table.

Ginny sat down on the chair, glancing at him with a questioning expression. "You want to know how I knew you were there?" he guessed. She nodded, looking like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar, earning her another chuckle. "I saw the curtain ruffle about halfway through Blaise's story. When I glanced over, I saw your shoes poking out."

They both looked down at her small black shoes on her little feet, neither saying anything. Finally she looked up, her face upset, and opened her mouth. She stopped for a few moments, deciding how to convey her thoughts to him without speaking. Finally she whispered in her little way, the air rushing out of lungs and through her mouth, and he had to read her lips to make out the word "How?"

"How? What do you mean by that, Ginny?" Draco asked with a confused look on his face. She didn't seem to know how to ask without too many words that would confuse him, and Draco, though his father had taught him how to read lips at a young age, was still not very good at it. Draco lifted a hand to stop her. "Do you mean, how could Blaise's mother be so cruel?"

She nodded, a triumphant look in her eyes. Internally, he too felt pride. They had finally found a way to communicate with each other, even if it was difficult and a bit slow. It was an improvement, and that made Draco elated.

"Well…she is a Death Eater. At the time, I could not understand what was so horrible about their love. They were not blood related, and even if they had been, they were in love, and nobody should ever feel that their love is wrong." He felt a small blush rise to his cheeks when he realized how hypocritical that was for him to say. He ignored the fluttering in his stomach and continued. "But…the Death Eaters…you have to understand their mindset. They are very backwards people with very strange views about the world. They are hateful. They hate everyone, muggles, half-bloods, blood traitors. And among those anyone that is poor, gay, hard-working, not English born, or just isn't like them, they see as below them.

"Death Eaters hate to be opposed, they hate it when somebody speaks out against them, which is why they especially hated your family. Pure blood like yours was so 'wasted' on a family of poor outcasts that did not agree with the Dark Lord." He noticed she looked upset, as if she was going to cry, and had her arms crossed tightly around her chest. Draco quickly moved on from her family.

"Blaise's mother was all of that to the extreme. She wanted to rise through the ranks, win the Dark Lord's favor, wanted to be his second-hand, higher than my father even. She could not have anything embarrass or shame her. When Blaise and Cécile fell in love, she saw it as scandalous. She could not have gossip surrounding her when she was just getting powerful. The only way to save her name was to punish Blaise and kill Cécile, and what a better way to get both done at the same time than to have Blaise kill her? She suggested the idea to the Dark Lord, and the twisted freak loved it." His voice was bitter and dark now, he knew, and probably scaring Ginny. He took a deep, calming, shuddery breath.

Feeling a hand on his, Draco glanced down at Ginny, to find her staring up at him with her sad, large brown eyes. "I'm sorry." she whispered, and Draco patted her on the head, reveling in the feel of her silky hair running through his fingers like fiery water.

"It is nothing for you feel sorry for, Ginny. I am used to it by now. I was raised by two prestigious Death Eaters, raised to think like them, act like them, hate like them, but I don't, as I'm sure you've noticed." He heaved a heavy sigh.

"It takes a lot of pain and maturity to realize your parents are not always right, and even more to realize that they are wrong. I used to swallow every word they said, boast about their power at school, follow in their footsteps like a mindless child, because I was. They fed me their bullshit and I believed every word of it for sixteen years. It took a very powerful event for me to see how wrong they were.

"Pure blood and money and family lineage was not everything, my father was not the center of the world, my mother was not the pure, noble, righteous person I imagined her as, and the Dark Lord was not a person rebelling to change the world for the better. When I was younger and naïve, I viewed the Death Eaters as some elite group of friends getting together to cause mischief. I was absorbed by the intrigue and mystery surrounding them.

"And then I realized that the innocent 'mischief' I had viewed it as was rape and murder and hate. I had thought of them as a rebellious group of adults that wanted to mess with the system and cause a change that would help everyone, but the truth was that their change for the world was to wipe it clean of all 'undesirables', and the power they used was fear. I felt ashamed, betrayed, confused, and angry for believing those lies."

Draco shook himself out of his reverie and looked over at Ginny. She was worrying her bottom lip with her teeth and following what he said with a small frown. He watched the way her face shifted into emotions, the way her dark eyes glistened and shone, the way her hair fell into her face, covering half of it. She was beautiful, truly gorgeous, and he was content to simply sit and stare at her, to never do any more than that. But she looked up, her dark eyes meeting his, and tilted her head to the side. Her small, pink lips opened, the air rushing out in a little sigh, and she whispered, "What happened?"

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Draco slowly and quietly slipped the grate off of the air duct. The mansion was ancient, and so the air ducts were huge, large enough to fit a sixteen year old boy in them, and never dusty because of the cleaning charms the House Elves used on them. Draco pulled his dark hood low over his blonde hair and pale skin and crept along the air duct, his black gloves and socks making no noise.

His father had taught him all of this since he was young. Lucius Malfoy, the greatest Death Eater alive and Voldemort's right hand man, had defenses everywhere. He had raised Draco to not only worship the Dark Lord, but to spy for Lucius, who often used Draco's thin but tall frame and charismatic way of speaking for private spying and creeping into his enemy's homes and lives. Draco was fine with being used; to be honest, he found it fun, even exciting. It was like a game, and he often pretended to be a top secret government spy. In his spare time the teenage boy entertained the thought of spying for Voldemort himself, at his right hand, after his father died. But the Malfoy heir kept that thought to himself.

Draco was growing closer; he could hear voices now. His father would not let him get the mark so young, to his annoyance, claiming the boy was not disciplined enough to join the Dark Lord's ranks. Well, not even Lucius Malfoy, who had trained his son himself, could stop him from looking in on Voldemort's meetings. Draco was cautious and incredibly stealthy, and, although he did this only on rare occasion, he often learned valuable information that he boasted to Crabbe and Goyle and Blaise. Lucky Blaise, even though they were the same age, he was getting his mark in just a year, whereas Draco's father told him he would have to wait until his eighteenth birthday.

Draco heard the hiss of the Dark Lord and quieted his thoughts. His father had taught him some Occlumency, but Draco was still not good enough at it to keep out Voldemort's sharp mind, the master of Legilimency. Draco knew to keep his thoughts quiet and still to slide under the radar, and so far had not been caught. He moved forward on his elbows and belly, looking out through the flower design of the iron grate, high in the wall, down at the meeting in excitement.

There was his father, he knew the man immediately, despite his hood and mask, by his tall frame, the way he carried himself, and the air of arrogance and superiority surrounding him. Draco's chest welled with pride. His mother was not there, he noticed, and upon closer observation he counted many of the Dark Lord's number to be missing. Had they abandoned? Certainly not. No, this was a private party, for Voldemort's closest, most highly prized members only. Draco grinned at his luck. He had had a feeling something special was going to happen tonight, and it looked like he was right.

The Dark Lord sat in a throne, garbed in a black cloak like the rest of his followers, but wearing no mask. His slitted red eyes glowed in the darkness, or perhaps it was the reflection of the fireplace, which he sat facing as his men all kneeled down behind him. "My Lord," spoke up a voice that Draco recognized to be Mr. Goyle's. "We've brought these women to you, Muggles sir, and some mudbloods. Useless filth. We hope one of them will satisfy you…and that the rest will satisfy us." Chuckles sounded throughout the room.

Women? Draco's eyes scanned the room until he saw them, hiding in a dark corner, as far away from the Death Eaters as possible. He didn't recognize any of them; Goyle had, after all, said they were mudbloods and Muggles, people he had never, would never, associate with. Yet, he couldn't look away from them. There were four women, two of them looked to be about his mother's age, angry looks on their righteous faces, as they glared at the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord, chained together by their magical bindings. Those were the mudbloods, he could tell, because they wore robes. But the other two, they were clearly Muggles, one of them a gorgeous woman with dark skin and black hair and high cheekbones, a Spanish beauty she was, the other no older than himself, maybe even younger, small, frightened, confused. They were both clearly Muggles by the clothes that they wore, and both clearly did not understand, did not want to believe, what was going on. The Spanish beauty, she kept speaking rapidly in her native language, looking around at her in fear. The little girl, she sat there quietly crying, arms folded around herself, obviously having some idea of what their fate was to be.

"Good. Bring me the Auror." Whispered the Dark Lord, a smile on his inhuman face. One of the witches was pulled up by the arm and thrown before the Dark Lord. Though she was forced to her knees, she kept her head held high, and Draco felt a pang of something. Pride? Courage? He thought he worshiped the Dark Lord, yet, the way that she stared him in his ugly, hateful red eyes, unblinking, her face expressionless and cold, she seemed so much more superior, so honorable, so strong. "Tell me about the Order of the Phoenix." She smiled and kept her mouth shut. "Tell me or you shall die!" Not a word left her lips as they cursed her with the Cruciatus, making Draco cringe. His father had used that on him before, not often, but when he embarrassed him. She did not utter a sound, not even a scream, as they tormented her with beatings and curses until she lay lifeless. The other women noticeably trembled in the corner. "You may have your way with them, the swine!"

Draco saw his father move first, could practically feel his leering grin of pleasure, as he snatched up the small young girl, throwing her to the floor. He watched in horror and disgust and mortification as he and the other Death Eaters went about stripping their clothes off and forcing themselves upon the women. What was his father doing?! That girl was no older than himself! Just a child! Young enough to be his daughter! Draco could see the fear and sadness in her eyes as she cried, her maiden blood spilling out as his father thrust into her. Draco could not stop the bile rising in his throat from spilling out his mouth as he watched the orgy with disbelieving eyes. He gagged, throwing up in the vent, and the Dark Lord's eyes snapped up to him instantly.

"Lucius, your son has taken to spying, I see." Lucius looked up from where he leaned over the girl, his eyes dark and angry. He fixed his clothes to cover his nakedness and whipped out his wand, aiming it at the grate in front of Draco's face, blasting it into pieces. Before Draco could think, he was flying out of the ventilation shaft and onto the floor below, landing with a crack of his neck.

"What do you think you're doing, you stupid boy! I will punish you for this!" Draco's father walked towards him, wand out, murder in his eyes.

"Now, now, Lucius, perhaps your son merely wanted to join us in our fun." The Dark Lord smiled, his blood red eyes glowing in the firelight, never looking at them. Draco knew that wasn't the case, and he knew the Dark Lord knew that. He also knew the Dark Lord knew that he knew, if his horrid grin meant anything. "Go on, Draco, how about the youngest one. She is your age. As long as you don't mind taking her after your father."

Draco could hear the Death Eaters laugh behind him, and he almost threw up again. His father grabbed him by the collar, throwing him before the Dark Lord, making him bow. "What do you say to the Dark Lord, boy?!"

Draco's throat was dry. Take her? As in, rape her? He couldn't. He was a virgin, and he didn't want his first time, or any time, to be forced upon somebody. Was this what his father boasted about? Was this the great Death Eater legion he had been taught about since birth? Instilling fear in Muggles and half-bloods by raping and torturing them until they died? He couldn't speak, couldn't even comprehend, the lies he had been fed, that he had believed, boasted about. Was this what his father wanted him to become? It made him sick.

"What do you say, boy?!" His father yelled, grabbing his hair and forcing his head up so that he had to stare the Dark Lord in his cold, disgusting, disfigured face. Draco gulped, trying to swallow back down the puke that had risen up in his mouth. "I…I…" His eyes strayed behind the Dark Lord to the girl, where another Death Eater had forced her to her knees and climbed on top of her from behind. She stared back at him with tears in her eyes, begging him to save her, to help her. Her face was streaked with blood and tears and other fluids Draco did not want to analyze or comprehend. "No! No, I won't do it! I won't be like you!" He pushed his father away, falling to the ground on his butt, staring up in horror at his father's angry face.

"If you won't be like us, you will be like them! Crucio!" An intense pain filled him like none he had ever felt before. Draco screamed, curling into a ball and writhing on the floor. Every nerve was on fire, every muscles clenching in pain, every cell of his body bursting. The pain clouded his vision with white hot sparks of light until all he could see was white, and he was forced to close his eyes. His father had Cruciod him before, but it had never been this intense, this angry, this horribly painful. Draco found he could not think, could not breath, only scream, involuntarily, until he passed out.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

"Do you see now, Ginny? I used to be like my father, used to follow in his footsteps, hang off his every word. And then my eyes were opened." He swallowed hard, his throat dry, and looked over at her. Ginny found she could not meet his eyes. "Thank you…for listening…You know, that if you ever want to share your secrets, I will always be here to listen as well." He touched his forehead to hers for a moment before standing. "I have to go…be alone now…" He went into his bathroom, shutting the door quietly, shutting her out of his heart.

_Well, wasn't that sweet. But honestly, how ugly have I gotten?_

Ginny sighed, closing her eyes, dread washing over her heart. "_How can you be speaking already?_" she asked Tom, speaking not with her lips but her mind. "_I thought you weren't powerful enough yet?_"

_Ginevra, Ginevra, do you never learn? Your strength is my strength. You have quickly been getting stronger and healthier, if you would just look in a mirror you would notice that, and so, too, have I. Soon I shall be able to manifest myself before you, and then it will be like old times, just us, my love._

His voice taunted her, coming from her mind, from her ears themselves, though nobody could hear but her. She closed her eyes, curling her arms around herself. "_I don't want it to be like old times._"

He laughed, the cold, cruel sound making her cringe. _When will you learn, love, that you can not get rid of me? You have to accept me. You thought I was dead when you almost died, but you were wrong. Now, how do they say, get over it. _

Ginny's stood, walking into Draco's living room, her eyes roaming around in an attempt to find something to do to block out his voice. That's when she saw it, a long, Hawthorn and unicorn hair wand, rich, ornately carved, and beautiful, with a shiny silver handle and dark wood. Ginny walked towards it, her feet moving without her command, to pick it up. She twisted it in her hands, a few small sparks issuing, nothing like when she had held her own wand, but still, it felt nice to hold one, after so long. She didn't know what had happened to her wand, she had lost it when she had been captured, and she missed it. She didn't feel incomplete without it, not like one might feel after losing a close family member or friend or lover, she just missed the magic, the power, that had been born into her.

And now she was holding a wand again. All the wondrous things she could do! But…When will you learn, love, that you can not get rid of me? Isn't that what he had said? She could surely get rid of him, if she wanted to. And she did want to. She could…she could…say the curse. The Unforgivable. She could be free of him, free of this world, of its horrible memories. All it took was two little words. She had wanted to die, as she lay in that cell, and now here was her chance.

As she put the wand to her head and fell to her knees, she thought of nothing but her freedom, her escape. Not of Alex, and the kindness the woman had shown her. Not of Blaise, of his terrible, tragic love. And not of Draco, with his mercury eyes and warm arms, who had treated her with nothing but kindheartedness and gentleness and love. All she could feel was the wood against her temple and the steady stream of tears on her cheeks. Even Tom's cursing sounded distant and far away as she whispered, "Watch how I get over it. Avada…Kedavra."


	9. Lust

A/N: The song in this chapter is "Never Too Late" by Three Days Grace. I got the lyrics from LyricsTop. I originally heard the song on the radio, but could only remember two lines. Thank goodness for Yahoo! Answers, or I wouldn't have known the name of the song to get the lyrics. :D

There are a lot of mature themes in this chapter, such as suicide, cutting, violence, and attempted rape. The fic is rated M for a reason, so if you can't handle it, please don't read it. Here's chapter nine. Enjoy!

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

"Ginny?! Ginny! What are you doing?!" _Yes, Ginevra, what _are_ you doing? _Ginny opened her eyes to see Draco kneeling down above her, his mercury pools of eyes staring down at her. Why was Draco here? Had she killed him? Had her spell accidentally rebounded off of her and gotten him as well? Had she said it wrong and killed them both?

No. She sat up slowly, her head spinning from the sudden fall, and stared around her. She was still in Draco's room. She still had his wand clenched firmly in her hand. She could still feel Tom's presence in her mind. She was still alive.

How had she not died? How was she still alive, not even injured? _I don't know, perhaps the fact that you still have yet to speak. You don't have any skill whatsoever when it comes to silent spells or wandless magic. Thank goodness._

Ginny's eyes met Draco and shame washed over her. He was looking at her with a mixture of fury and pity and fear. "Ginny, what were you doing with my wand?" She realized it was still in her hand and dropped it to the floor where it rolled away. He grabbed it up quickly, putting it inside his robes, and grabbed her shoulders, making her look into his eyes. "Tell me!" His face was grim.

Her lips trembled. "I'm sorry," she whispered, tears springing to her eyes. She saw those tears reflected in his eyes.

"Ginny, were you…were you trying to kill yourself?" His voice wavered on the word 'kill'. She nodded, her shoulders shaking under his hands with silent sobs. Ginny collapsed into Draco's arms, crying, and he held her close. "No more, do you understand me?" It was not a question, but a command. "No more. I don't know all of what you went through Ginny, but I know it was horrible, and I'll do whatever I can to make it right. But…you cannot kill yourself. You cannot take the easy way out." He pushed her away. "Look at me." She did. "Please, you have to understand, I know how you feel, I do, but committing suicide, or even just hurting yourself, it isn't the right way to deal with this."

He pulled back his sleeve, thrusting his arm in her face, and she gasped. Deep, ugly, bloody red scars crisscrossed across his wrists, blending in with old, white, disfigured scars. The new scars were only on one wrist though, over the Dark Mark, as if he had tried to cut it out, to disfigure it beyond recognition.

"I keep them hidden with a spell most of the time, but I forgot to do it again when I got out of the shower. The old scars are from before I got the Mark. I started them after that event I told you about. The newer ones…I did them recently to my new Mark. I didn't want it Ginny, I didn't want to be a Death Eater. My birthday, that's when I got, the Mark. The day I met you. Ironic, isn't it, that the best thing that could ever happen to me, also happened on the day when the worst thing that could ever happen did."

She looked up at him in confusion. He took her face in his hands, staring into her eyes. "You, Ginny. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, meeting you. And isn't it ironic, that I met you on my birthday, the day they gave me the Mark?" He laughed bitterly, then sighed, his eyes sad. Draco brushed her tears away with his thumbs. "Ginny, please, promise me you won't do this again. Promise me you won't kill yourself. Because, Ginny, you have friends now. I'm your friend. Blaise and Alex are your friends. And we care about you. We love you…I…I love you." He bit his bottom lip and looked away from her, his cheeks tinting pink.

He began to sing, his voice quiet as he held her close, running his hands through her hair. Ginny pressed her head against his chest, feeling the way it vibrated as he sang, his warm breath on her hair, his strong arms around her. She wasn't sure what he meant, by telling her he loved her, and she wasn't sure how she felt about it either, so she closed her eyes and listened to him sing and stopped thinking about it. For once, Tom was quiet, letting her feel a moment of content, perhaps even happiness, in a bittersweet, sad sort of way, as she listened to the dismal but beautiful song that Draco sang.

This world will never be

What I expected

And if I don't belong

Who would have guessed it

I will not leave alone

Everything that I own

To make you feel like it's not too late

It's never too late

Even if I say

It'll be alright

Still I hear you say

You want to end your life

Now and again we try

To just stay alive

Maybe we'll turn it around

'Cause it's not too late

It's never too late

No one will ever see

This side reflected

And if there's something wrong

Who would have guessed it

And I have left alone

Everything that I own

To make you feel like

It's not too late

It's never too late

Even if I say

It'll be alright

Still I hear you say

You want to end your life

Now and again we try

To just stay alive

Maybe we'll turn it around

'Cause it's not too late

It's never too late

The world we knew

Won't come back

The time we've lost

Can't get back

The life we had

Won't bleed us again

This world will never be

What I expected

And if I don't belong

Even if I say

It'll be alright

Still I hear you say

You want to end your life

Now and again we try

To just stay alive

Maybe we'll turn it around

'Cause it's not too late

It's never too late

Maybe we'll turn it around

'Cause it's not too late

It's never too late (It's never too late)

It's not too late

It's never too late

"I promise," she whispered.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Draco had watched her like a hawk ever since then. She had heard him mentioning to Blaise about having her sleep in his room and not letting her out to do chores, but Blaise and Alex had insisted that was going overboard. Again Alex had lectured, to Draco's annoyance, that Ginny was not a child, and Draco could not watch her twenty-four seven, despite whether or not she had attempted suicide. However, Ginny had noticed that whenever she was not around Draco, either Blaise or Alex was near her, keeping an eye on her.

Thankfully, they did not hinder her from doing her work. Ginny found cleaning the Manor soothing, as it gave her something to do, instead of leaving her alone with her thoughts, or Tom. Tom had gotten stronger and more prominent as the weeks went by since Ginny's attempted suicide. He was pissed at her for attempting to kill them both, but he didn't bitch. He had taken to talking daily, his voice so strong it was like he was standing right next to her. Her dreams were filled with him, and he had even occasionally been able to make himself stand before her, though he faded in and out of view, less prominent than a ghost or vision. He was currently bothering her yet again as she mopped the marble floors, discussing why he was so much better than Muggles or mudbloods, as if he were trying to convince her. It was an old subject, one that used to make her laugh at how vain and arrogant and wrong he was, but she hasn't laughed in a long time, and she wasn't planning on doing it now.

Ginny heard footsteps coming up the stairs down the hall, but she ignored them, figuring it to be Alex or Draco or Blaise, or perhaps just one of the other slaves telling her it was time for supper. She was getting a bit hungry, now that her appetite had mostly returned to her, with time, and she had begun to do steady, physical work from sunup to sundown, just like the other slaves.

Ginny stopped before one of the large, beautiful windows looking out over the grounds. She didn't get to go out there often, mostly because up until recently she had been too frail and weak to walk all the way to the gardens, much less all of the Malfoy Estate's huge lawn, but now that she was strong enough and the leaves were beginning to turn, marking the end of summer, she wanted desperately to go out in the warm sunshine and play in the falling leaves. She looked around her, not seeing anyone, and opened the door to the small balcony, closing her eyes and reveling in the smell of the moist air, the feel of the wind running through her hair, the warmth of the sun on her skin.

That is until she heard a deep, arrogant, aristocratic behind her as a strong hand clamped down on her shoulder.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Lucius Malfoy walked up the stairs towards the wing where his study and library were, lost in his thoughts. Months had passed since he had presented his son with Ginny Weasley, and still he had gotten no where. Albeit, he had been too busy lately, what with furthering the power of Voldemort's new regime. Voldemort and his Death Eaters did not just control the Ministry, they _were_ the Ministry. Voldemort, over the past year and a half, had stretched his dark, disfigured hand over all of Britain's Magical world, ruling it all with the power of the head of the Ministry, and Lucius had worked his arse off to help him do so smoothly.

First it had been a matter of getting rid of Dumbledore two years ago. The useless man was the head of the once secret Order of the Phoenix, and a thorn in Voldemort's side. Lucius, wanting to win the Dark Lord's favor and get his shameful son away from the manor where he could further embarrass Lucius, had offered his son to kill Dumbledore. Voldemort felt Draco was too weak, especially after the meeting where Draco had failed to rape the kidnapped Muggles and mudbloods. Although Lucius agreed with the Dark Lord, this was the only way he felt he could atone for his weak, pathetic son. The Dark Lord had accepted, assigning Draco to the task of murdering Albus Dumbledore.

As expected, the damn boy had failed, embarrassing and shaming Lucius. Draco had gotten a heavy beating daily after that, especially when Lucius was demoted and assigned to the prisoners of war, of which, at the time, there had been few. Until Dumbledore was finally killed by Snape, and the war truly began. Prisoners began to flood the dungeons under Malfoy Manor, flooding it until they were piled up. Then, just a few months after Dumbledore's death, Harry Potter was killed by a Death Eater.

The Death Eater's rejoiced and attacked the Ministry, bringing it down with their huge army. They took Azkaban, turning it into a dungeon for prisoners of war. Quickly, Voldemort's army ruled over all of Wizarding England, raiding houses of mudbloods, blood traitors, and known Aurors.

One of those homes had been the rickety, pathetic house that belonged to the Weasley family, famous for fighting for the Order of the Phoenix daily on the battlefield. They were spied on constantly until a pattern was detected. The father and brothers went out to fight every day, leaving the mother and daughter at home to tend to the house. The women were useless except for a good fuck, so the Death Eater spies waited until all of the family was home for the daughter's birthday. That was when they attacked, killing the men, raping the mother, and kidnapping Ginny Weasley as a prisoner of war.

At first, Lucius had planned on torturing the Weasley girl until she spilled all she knew about the remaining Order members, then he would fuck her and throw her to the dogs, leaving his Death Eaters to have their way with her until she died. She was a useless teenage girl, after all. However, something strange had occurred. No matter how much he tortured her, Ginny Weasley never uttered a word. He took his problem to the Dark Lord, who told him about Old Magic, which had most likely been used on Ginny Weasley.

In Old Magic, there were no spells or incantations. The magic came from within, and a person's will was what casted spells, not his wand. This magic was rarely used because it was extremely dangerous, and only a few wizards, such as Dumbledore, knew how to use it. Voldemort suspected whatever Old Magic was cursed on Ginny Weasley, it was to keep her mouth shut, to protect a dire secret. A secret the Dark Lord believed may be very important to winning the war.

And so, Ginny Weasley, before Lucius could even get a chance to fuck her, was put under the watchful eye of Voldemort, who deemed her untouchable by Lucius or any of the other Death Eaters, until her secret was discovered. She could be beaten, broken, but Voldemort did not want her raped or killed.

At first, Lucius was confused by this order. Had the Dark Lord had a sudden bout of compassion for this teenage girl? Did the Dark Lord want her for himself? No, he quickly learned when Lord Voldemort elaborated. Old Magic was often based off of ancient customs, many of which involved purity, virginity, and blood pacts. The Dark Lord did not want her virginity taken, for fear it would disturb the ancient Magic that surrounded her, causing her to be silent forever, and whatever dire secret she knew locked away until the end of time. The Dark Lord believed she was only temporarily silenced, and that when they found a way to undo the Old Magic, he could discover the secret that would bring him power.

Lucius did not understand why someone would entrust a teenage girl with such an ancient, powerful secret, or why Voldemort had taken a sudden interest in her and Old Magic, but he did as he was commanded, passing on his message to his men, telling them Weasley was not to lose her virginity, or it would be their deaths. The Death Eater's obliged, especially as Ginny Weasley began to dwindle down to nothing, and soon Lucius forgot about her, locked up in Azkaban.

Until his son's birthday, that was, when two of his men reported that they were tired of watching Ginny Weasley rot in a cell, that they wanted her dead and out of their hair. They didn't even feel an urge to rape her and take her virginity. Beating her had become a chore rather than fun. Ginny Weasley, a year after being taken prisoner of war, had reentered Lucius's life.

And like a sign, there she was, as he reached the top of the steps. Lucius stared at Ginny Weasley, his eyes scrutinizing, as she opened a door to a balcony, stepping out into the warm sunshine. He stepped closer, keeping his footsteps quiet and muffled, dodging around the spots on the floor where she had mopped, so he did not slip. He watched her as she leaned on the railing of the balcony, his groin throbbing in lust.

He hadn't seen her since that night when he had presented her as a gift to his son. Lucius knew Draco would not rape Ginny Weasley, even if he made the suggestion, because his son was much too weak for such a thing. He also felt this new tactic, to give her to his son in the hopes that they would make friends and she would grow stronger, become more alive and vibrant, begin to feel comfortable with Draco, would cause some sort of reversal of the spell. In the least, he hoped that Draco, curious over her silence, would find a way to make her speak again where he and his Death Eaters had not been creative enough to do so. But over the past few months, Lucius, again rising in the Dark Lord's ranks, had been too preoccupied to think on the Weasley girl and wonder his son's progress. He also had not seen how she had changed.

For change she had. She had filled out considerably since his son's birthday. Her breasts were much plumper and more developed now, her hair had returned to its thick, shiny luster, her body had become curvy and alluring.

Lucius stared as the short skirt of her maid's outfit rose up, revealing long, shapely legs and a perfect ass, garbed in white cotton panties. How innocent. Her dress pulled tight around her breasts, drawing Lucius's eyes, and her smiling face, hit by the bright sunlight, was that of an angel. The wind whipped her hair back from her face, making him lick his lips as an old lust for young girls filled him. He felt his hands itching to grab her, as, in his imagination, he threw her to the floor and stripped her clothes off, invading her mouth with his tongue.

But he knew he could not do that, and he almost groaned in disappointment. She had to remain a virgin, the Dark Lord's orders, and he could not disobey.

But who was to say he could not have a little bit of fun with her? Sure, he couldn't take her virginity, by could he not at least give her a little scare? His body ached to feel her under him, and as long as he didn't rape her, he could do whatever he wanted to the littlest and only Weasley.

Lucius smiled cruelly, grabbing Ginny Weasley's shoulder. He heard her sharp gasp of breath, and wanted to hear it again, to hear her scream. But he had to be patient. All in good time. "Look what we have here. A slave not doing her work." He turned her to him, and she stared in horror. He could feel his pants pull tight as he moved closer to her, backing her up until she hit the rail of the balcony. He pressed himself against her, his throbbing penis between her legs, the sudden fear in her eyes feeding his lust. "Do you know what happens to little slave girls when they don't do their work?" She shook her head, whimpering as he grabbed her face. "They get punished."

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Ginny felt tears spring to her eyes as she stared up at Lucius Malfoy. She knew the look in his eyes, knew it to be the horrid lust that filled evil men before they tortured and raped girls like her. No, please no. She did not want that, anything but that.

She could feel Tom snarl inside her, clearly angry that she was being hurt, that somebody was touching his Ginevra, but he could do nothing to help her now, nobody could. She wanted to push him away, but knew that if she pushed at Malfoy's chest she would only push herself over the balcony. She was trapped like an animal, and it frightened her to death.

Lucius Malfoy grabbed her hip in one hand, pulling her so tight against him she couldn't breathe, and grabbed her face in the other, smashing his lips against hers. She felt her lips bruising as his tongue invaded her mouth, making her gag. Tom's snarling grew louder, as did her whimpers, but she kept her eyes darting around, trying to find an escape. _Ginevra, his groin. Knee him in the groin, closer to his leg, not exactly in the center, that way you'll get his…err…so you really hurt him._ She nodded, hearing Lucius groan, and wiggled her knee between his legs, driving it up as hard as she could.

A scream of pain filled Ginny's ears, making them hurt, as Lucius Malfoy crumbled to the ground. _Good girl! Good shot!_ But Lucius was glaring daggers at her. "You bitch!" he spat, his face screwed up in pain. _Run Ginevra, run!_

She tried to, but she tripped, the world tipping as she fell down, the ground rising up to meet her. Ginny grabbed her head, but the impact of the hard marble floor still jolted her body. She looked back to see Malfoy's hand clamped around her ankle, twisting it. _Kick him in the face with your heel, Ginevra! _

She did so, kicking and flailing, her heel landing in Lucius's eye. Another scream of pain, this one so loud it made her ears ring with the sound, as his hands went to his face, and she saw blood spill out onto the clean, white marble, staining it. Ginny crawled away from him, her ankle aching, and pulled the heels off, throwing them at Lucius Malfoy as he tried to stand.

She made her way wobbly to her feet and ran towards the stairs, limping on her twisted ankle. Ginny had to make it to Draco's room, but that was on the other side of the Manor. The slaves' quarters, perhaps? Yes, that was closer, though down a lot of flights of stairs, by the kitchens. She made her way down the stairs, trying to ignore her ankle throbbing in pain, trying to run as quickly as she could. She reached the bottom of the stairs, wheeling around in circles. Which way was it? In the confusion she could not remember. _Left, Ginevra, to the left._

She followed Tom's orders, trusting him to memorize the floor plan of the Manor in his spare time. Ginny did not hear Malfoy following her, but she did not believe he was done chasing her yet. The hallways blurred, green and silver tapestries and black furniture and white marble, as her eyes teared from the pain, and she could only follow Tom's directions through the maze of halls. Finally, she was almost there, the heavy, worn wooden door of the slaves' quarters just before her. She ran towards it with all her might.

A door opened to a set of stairs before her and Lucius stepped out, glaring, his eye a bloody, gory mess. His chest heaved as he stepped between her and the slaves' quarters, making her skid to a stop. Ginny's socks slipped on the floor, and she crashed into him, the world again blurring as they both fell to the floor, limbs flailing. Suddenly, he was on top of her, his body pinning her down. "Fucking bitch! Look what you did to my eye! Look! You're going to pay for this, damn it, you're going to pay, and it will hurt." He laughed, his hands ripping at the buttons of her shirt. It flew open, exposing her chest, and his bloody, dirty, cruel hands groped at her breasts. "You like that, don't you, you stupid little bitch. Feels good, doesn't it?" His other hand went under her skirt, grabbing at her legs, pulling them apart.

And then his weight was lifted as he flew backwards, yelling. Ginny looked up to see Alex standing over her, face determined and angry, a bloody fist clenched before her. "C'mon, Ginny." She helped Ginny up, holding her close as she cried. "Shhh, it's okay, I'm here now, that bastard won't hurt you again."

But he was up, he wouldn't stop, his wand was out, aimed at them. Alex moved between her and Malfoy, protecting her. She heard the Cruciatus curse leave his lips, hitting Alex. Alex screamed in pain, but still told her to run, so she did. "Not so fast, you whore!" She ran to the stairs, but Lucius was there, grabbing at her arm, his wand pressed to her cheek as she flailed to get away. He grinned and let her go, throwing her down the stairs. Pain erupted all over her body as she tumbled down, unable to stop herself, clutching her head, the stairs bruising and cutting her. _Just relax, Ginevra, if you relax you won't get beat up as bad._ She tried to, stopped resisting, until she landed at the bottom, her head smacking against the marble.

Blood mixed with her hair, spilling out of her, and she grabbed at her head, tried to catch it, as her life and strength drained out of her. The last thing she saw before she passed out was Alex fighting with Lucius, her eyes flaming, her body moving and attacking like a warrior, hatred in her eyes. Ginny smiled as her eyes rolled up into her head. Alex, her hero.


	10. Things Heat Up

A/N: So, I know I already updated, but here I am with this finished chapter and in need of some reviews to make my mood better, so why not just give you guys a bonus chapter as a little gift from me? Sounds good. Here's chapter ten. Things Heat Up.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Draco looked up from where he had been reading a book on the couch when the door opened. He stood immediately, eyes wide, as he stared at a wary Alex and a beaten up, bloody, bruised Ginny leaning against her. "What happened?!" were the first words out of his mouth as he rushed to Ginny's side, taking her in his arms.

Alex sighed and collapsed onto the couch, and he noticed she was not lacking in bruises herself. He repeated his question, louder this time, making her put her hand to her ear. "Don't yell, please."

"Then answer my question?!" How could she be so calm when Ginny looked like she did? "She's bleeding, Alex!"

"I know, but I'm bloody tired, so give me a moment to collect myself, would you?! I just saved her arse, beat up your dad in the process, and I'm kind of exhausted, not to mention a bit worried about what the hell is going to happen to me now that I've left your dad unconscious in the hallway!"

Draco almost dropped Ginny in shock, but quickly grabbed her, laying her down on the couch. Alex took Ginny's bleeding head in her lap, cradling it gently. "What happened?! What did my father do?!"

Alex just shook her head. "There's no time for explanations now. You need to get Blaise, make sure he brings his healing kit."

Draco found it hard to pull himself away from Ginny in this condition, but he went to the fire, throwing in some Floo powder, and stuck his face into the fire. "Blaise?!"

The boy's face popped up in the ashes quickly. "Bloody 'ell, Draco, you don't have to stir the entire house, I'm right here."

"And that's the problem. I need you here, now. Ginny's been hurt by my father, so bring your healing stuff." Blaise's face conveyed his obvious shock and worry as his face quickly disappeared from the ashes. Draco pulled his face out of the fire, rubbing at the soot on it, and returned to Ginny's side. He wished he was a healer, so he could know how serious her injuries were and help her out, but he didn't know what to do except sit there and worry until Blaise came.

Luckily his friend was there within a matter of minutes, a black kit in his hand, and kneeling down by Draco's side. "I'll take care of you later, Alex, you look like you'll live. Just go and lay down in Draco's room." Alex nodded and did as she was told and Draco took her place on the couch, cradling Ginny to him.

"How bad is it? Is she going to be okay? She isn't going to…to…to die, is she?" Blaise held up a hand, silencing him, and went about pulling bottles and herbs out of his kit.

He worked on Ginny's head first, stopping the bleeding and stitching up the small gash with his wand. Occasionally he would mutter something, such as, "She may have a concussion," or "Turn her head more towards me." Finally, when her head was healed, he woke the girl up.

Ginny stared up at Draco in confusion, reaching a hand up to him. He took it, kissing it and cradling her head in his arms. "Are you okay, Ginny? Where does it hurt?"

She nodded to the first one and reached her hand to her head. "It will hurt for a little while. I could only stitch it up, but the headache will have to go away with time." Ginny nodded in understanding. "Now that you're conscious again, I need you to sit up, okay? Draco will help you, don't worry, but I need to see where else you are hurt." Draco sat Ginny up slowly, noticing her wince of pain, and laid her back against his chest. He tried to ignore how perfectly she fit into his arms, tried to resist the urge to wrap himself around her and hold her there forever, but it was hard. "Okay, point to where it hurts the most, Ginny."

She put her hand to her side, under her breasts. Blaise nodded, reaching for her shirt, shocked when a tight, masculine hand grabbed his wrist. Draco was shocked to find that hand was his. "Draco, what's wrong?" he asked, his eyes calculating and speculative.

"Why are you lifting up her shirt?!" Draco yelled, feeling a mixture of emotions, namely fury and confusion and jealousy.

Blaise sighed, prying Draco's hand off his wrist. "Draco, I have to see what's wrong. She may have a broken rib, maybe even more than one. In order to do so, I'm going to have to take off her shirt."

"Well what if she doesn't want you to?!" Draco tried to ignore Blaise's exasperated expression and cold eyes.

"Ginny, I need to know, do you trust me? I would never hurt you. I am your friend. But I'm going to have to take off your shirt to see where you are hurt. I won't touch you anywhere personal, you just have to think of me as a doctor, not Blaise." She nodded slowly after a few moments, to Draco's irritation. "Thank you. Now, Draco, may I go about healing her?" Draco turned his eyes away and shrugged, throwing down Blaise's wrist. "Okay, Ginny, I need you to lift your arms up."

She tried to, but winced and hissed in pain as soon as they began to raise, clutching her arms around her ribcage. Blaise's face looked grim. "Draco, please help me. Hold her arms up for me, okay?"

Draco nodded grimly and lifted Ginny's arms slowly, trying to ignore her sobs of pain. Blaise pulled her shirt off, leaving her only in her bra and the short skirt Alex had garbed her in, dubbing it her new uniform. "Shh…Relax Ginny, please, I'm here, okay? I know it hurts, but just try to relax." She did, her body molding against his, and Draco tried to ignore how nice she smelled, how warm and small and fragile she felt.

Blaise placed his hands low on her ribcage, feeling for broken bones and reading Ginny's signals. Whenever she whimpered in pain he knew he had come to a bruised or broken rib, and he would either heal it or put a bruise balm on it. Finally, after many slow, aching minutes of meticulous searching, Blaise smiled up at her and patted her on the head. "I'm all done. You can lower her arms now, Draco."

Draco did so, noticing how she immediately let out the breath she had been holding. Draco laid her down on the couch where she curled into a ball, stroking her hair out of her face. "We'll be right back, okay Ginny? We just have some things to discuss with Alex."

She nodded, closing her eyes tiredly, her face still pained. "Here, drink this, Ginny, and you'll go right to sleep." Ginny did as she was told, swallowing the potion Blaise gave her, gagging only slightly. Within minutes she was fast asleep on the couch, and Draco pulled the covers around her body. "Let's go talk to Alex."

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Blaise opened the door to find the girl lying tiredly on the bed. Now that Ginny was not in immediate danger or pain, Draco noticed her bruises and cuts for the first time. Most were shallow and he figured would be easy to heal, but she did look exhausted. "How is she?" asked the girl, clearly worried over Ginny.

"Ginny will be fine with time to heal. But Alex, we need to know what happened to you two." Blaise sat down on the bed beside her, but Draco could only pace the room anxiously, knowing it had something to do with his perverted father.

Alex nodded, sitting up with a groan and propping herself against the headboard. "To be honest, I couldn't tell you how it started out. I was only walking out of the slave's quarters when I saw Ginny and Lucius Malfoy in the halls. He…he was on top of her, and it looked like there had been a struggle, but she still had her clothes on, for the most part. His eye was all bloody; looked like she gouged it out with her heel, and he was ripping at her shirt, but she appeared to be physically intact, if you know what I mean."

They did. Alex was saying Ginny didn't look like she'd been raped; at least, not yet. "I attacked him, didn't think twice. Punched him in the nose, and bloody hell, it felt good. Think I might've even broken it. But he wouldn't stay down. He got up and pointed his wand at Ginny and me and cast the…the Cruciatus." She shuddered, closing her eyes. "That was the most pain I've ever experienced in my whole life. I told Ginny to run, but when I looked up next he had her by the stairs. He threw her down, before I could get to them, and she tumbled out of sight. So, I launched myself on him, began attacking, flailing fists and kicking. In the confusion of the brawl we both landed at the bottom of the stairs with Ginny and his wand was by my foot. I grabbed it up, stunned him, picked up Ginny, and ran here as fast as I could."

"What do you think Draco?" Blaise asked, clearly confused as to why his father was attacking an innocent girl.

Draco snarled and slammed his fist into the wall, wincing as he felt the bones break. "I think my father is a pervert that likes to rape little helpless girls, that's what I think!"

Blaise merely rolled his eyes and grabbed Draco's hand, healing it. "No, I mean, what do you think we should do now? About this whole situation? Alex and Ginny are both clearly in danger in this house."

Draco leaned against the wall with a tired sigh. "Ginny is getting locked in my room and she's never leaving, that's what." He heard a feminine giggle beside him, and glared over at Alex, annoyed. "What?!"

"Locked in your room? Sorry, it just sounded a little, you know, perverted."

Draco blushed and glared at her harder. "Shut up, that's not what I meant at all!"

"Okay, calm down Draco. Alex, stop teasing him. I actually agree with Draco on that one, the least we can do-"

Alex's face was suddenly serious and angry. "I can't believe I'm hearing this! Ginny was almost _raped_. She doesn't need to be locked up in Draco's room, she needs to be out of this manor!" There was a pregnant silence as Draco and Blaise looked at anything but each other and Alex stared between the two of them with growing frustration.

"Alex, saying things like that are dangerous," Blaise whispered quietly.

Alex glared at him, sitting up further. "I'm serious! You need to run away with Ginny and me! She isn't safe here and neither am I!"

"Do you think it's that easy?! Do you think you can just up and walk out of Malfoy Manor?! We're prisoners here, Alex, just like you. Blaise is a prisoner in his manor to his mother and here, to the Dark Lord, as am I. We can't just leave. We'll be caught. We'll be killed. It's the truth of the matter and there's no point in feeding silly fantasies like that!" Draco felt Blaise's hand on his shoulder and looked away, taking deep, raggedy breaths to calm himself.

"I understand that, but you're eighteen! They can't keep you here forever! And besides, Ginny belongs to you, she's yours, so you should be able to do whatever-"

Draco grabbed her by the throat, pinning her against the wall. Alex stared at him with wide eyes, her voice cut off from surprise, even though he was not choking her. "Ginny is not _mine_! She isn't _anybodies_! I'm her guardian, though, and I know what's best for her! My father…my father would never let us just waltz out of here; he would rather see me dead. He wants me dead, he just needs an excuse! You have to understand, we can't leave, not that we don't want to. We just _can't._ It isn't possible."

"So you're going to let her rot, let her waste away in this hell hole?! You're going to just sit idly by while people abuse her and treat her like scum?!"  
"What else can I do, Alex?!"

"Set her free. She has to get out of here, it isn't safe or healthy for her, and neither is it for you or Blaise or me. We all need to get out of here. It's the only way."

He heaved a heavy sigh and let her go. Alex rubbed lightly at her neck, but he hadn't left bruises, so she didn't complain. "Fine. But if we're getting out of here, it will take a lot of time. A lot of careful planning. And you can't know anything about it, neither can Ginny. You girls aren't studied the art of Occlumency like Blaise and me."

"I don't think we need to worry much about that. Alex is in the most danger right now for attacking Lucius, Draco. She is the one that needs to get out of here now," Blaise commented, his expression thoughtful, as it always was. "I shall hide her tonight somewhere she will be safe, then return quickly so I am not connected. We will say she ran away if anyone asks us. Ginny will know nothing about our plans; it's best that way. Come, we should go now, before Lucius comes looking for you. I'm sorry, Alex, but there will be no time to pack your belongings."

Alex nodded. "No worries. I haven't got anything of value to take. Draco…thank you. For taking care of Ginny, for promising to free her. It will work out in the end for both of you."

He shrugged. "You think so?"

Alex nodded and hugged him around the middle. "I regret not being able to say goodbye to Ginny. But I don't want her getting any more tangled up in this mess than she already is. Please be safe, and you three come and get me as soon as you can. Who knows? Maybe we could go to Australia or France or even America."

She smiled and took Blaise's hand as he stood ready to apparate. "We'll travel by apparition first, then by floo, and finally by foot, for they'll surely trace us."

"Goodbye Draco. Not for long, I hope." She did her best to keep a brave smile on her face.

"See ya soon, mate." He waved his hand to them in farewell.

They were gone with a crack.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Draco lifted a shaky hand to Ginny's shirt hem, his face noticeably blushing. She was sitting on the couch in front of him with a pained expression, her arms by her side and her shirt under his hand as he kneeled before her. How had they ended up like this again?

That's right, Blaise. Blaise, after healing her broken ribs, gave Draco a bruise balm for her bruised ribs and other injuries. Draco was to rub it on the blue-black bruises every twenty-four hours until they disappeared. Although the stuff smelled nice, like lavenders, it was nothing but a plain, off-pink cream, and looked like nothing more than hand lotion in a jar. However, Blaise had insisted the bruise balm would make her feel better, and she had started to complain an hour ago about her ribs hurting again.

Draco had been hoping, wishing on his lucky star or some deity he didn't believe in, to let her magically heal overnight so he wouldn't be stuck in this uncomfortable situation. Unfortunately, twenty-eight hours after he was given his strict instructions, Ginny had come to him clutching her ribs in pain. He didn't want to see her hurt but…to put the balm on her he would have to…to…to touch her. Her chest. Her bare chest.

Draco tried to tell himself it was in the name of making her better. Blaise hadn't been embarrassed, hadn't even broken a sweat or blushed or looked the least modest, when he had healed Ginny's wounds. Yet he expected Draco to be able to do it? How? Draco wasn't a doctor. Draco had never seen a girl with her shirt off, other than in the occasional Playwizard magazine. But never right before him. And never had he been expected to touch a topless girl.

Was he embarrassed? Yes. Was he shaking? Hell yeah. Was he so freaked out his body wasn't responding at all? Not in the least.

In fact, that was about as far from the truth as you could get. Draco was sweating, blushing, trembling, and she still had her shirt on. His body felt charged, excited, even as he tried to tell it he was doing this to help Ginny, even as he tried to ignore it and quench the rising desire as she stared down at him with her dark brown eyes, her fiery red hair falling in her face, her soft pink lips parted slightly to reveal her tongue.

It wasn't like he hadn't seen her bare chest before. He had, when Pansy Parkison had spilled hot tea all over her. But he had been so blinded by fury he hadn't even noticed; all he could see then were the bright red burns. Not to mention, she had filled out considerably since then, her breasts a more than noticeable under her white, button up shirt. Oh, and then there was the touching thing again.

Ginny made a noise, like someone clearing their throat, and he looked up from his shaky hand to see her staring at him in confusion. "Oh…uh…sorry, I zoned out there Ginny." He grinned stupidly and she nodded in return, her lip twitching. It did that a lot, he noticed. Whenever he cracked a joke she never smiled or laughed, but her lip would twitch, just a little bit, in the corner. He knew it was her way of smiling, that she wasn't quite comfortable enough to come out of her shell and beam at him completely, which he was fine with. At least this way, he knew if she ever did smile at him, it would be a true, genuine smile, not a fake laugh and deceptive smirk hiding a cold heart like the many people that surrounded him.

Draco went back to the task at hand, unbuttoning Ginny's shirt from the bottom button and moving his way up. His breath came out louder, harder, as his hands brushed against her breasts to reach the upper buttons. But finally her shirt came away, and Draco couldn't help but stare as her perky, bouncy breasts peeked out from the white cotton bra she wore, worn and thin, so he could practically see through it. He tried to divert his eyes, but it was too late, he had the image burned into his brain now, amongst others. His perverted mind went about filling in the rest of the image, imagining her in her knickers, on his bed, her red hair splayed out beneath her.

Focus, Draco! He pushed the image away, trying to ignore it as he unscrewed the cap on the bruise balm and pulled some of it out. It was slightly thicker than lotion, but felt all in all the same, though it was pleasantly warm as he began to rub it on her sore ribs. He heard her occasional sharp intake of breath and watched her face clench in discomfort, but she wasn't in too much pain, and that was good. Draco rubbed the balm onto her bare skin, trying to ignore how silky and smooth her skin was, pale with a pink undertone, and brushed with freckles on her neck and chest and nose and shoulders. He wondered if those freckles were everywhere on her body.

Shut up, you perverted asshole! He was yelling at himself now. Great. Just what he needed, to be arguing with himself.

Though, it wouldn't make much sense for her to have freckles there, after all, unless she sunbathed nude. And she just didn't seem the type. Though she did used to fly a lot. Could you fly nude?

Why was he wondering these things?! What was wrong with him?! Draco felt his hand brush cotton cloth and he was pulled out of his head and back to reality, where his knuckles had brushed against her bra as he made circular patterns with the bruise balm, as Blaise had instructed. Draco gulped, suddenly feeling terribly thirsty. He wanted to look at Ginny, wondered what was going through her head, but he was too ashamed. Could he just stop now, call it quits, before he went insane, or worse? No, he noticed. She had a huge purple bruise peeking out from under the bra. "Umm…I'm going to need you to lift your arms up Ginny."

She lifted them, slowly, looking uncomfortable at the movement as it stretched her sore muscles and shifted her bruised ribs.

That's when he realized it. He would have to take her bra off. There was no way around it, truly, for the bruise was under the bra, on the rib that her breast rested against. He reached for it, hand shaking so hard he missed a few times, and shakily pulled her bra up, gasping. Her pink nipple peeked out at him as a shiver, of cold he assumed, ran up her spine. He stared at the way her breast rose and fell with her breathing, and he was suddenly consumed by a masculine lust to play with her bouncy, perky breasts for hours, to rub and kiss and caress them. And more. He wanted to kiss her. He licked his lips at the thought. And her body. He wanted to run his hands all along her body, over every curve and hill and valley and mountain, exploring everything, getting to know her by feel alone.

Draco's pants were beginning to feel uncomfortably tight as his brain screamed at him, the voice getting dimmer and dimmer, that those thoughts were horrible and wrong, that this was Ginny, innocent little Ginny, and he couldn't do any of those things to her. He reached up a hand with the bruise balm, trying to ignore her soft breast brushing against his hand, and began to rub it in, glad when the bruise began to get lighter and she seemed to be in less pain. Finally, he was done, all of her bruised ribs taken care of. Draco quickly pulled her bra down and closed her shirt over her bare chest, still unable to stand as he kneeled before her, staring at her knees and picking at a piece of unraveling thread on her skirt. "Is-Is that all? Ummm…do you have any more bruises?" He sincerely hoped they were finished here so he could go take an icy cold shower and try to quell his insatiable lust.

She shifted around for a moment, and he stared in wonder as she unzipped her skirt slightly, revealing her hip, which had a huge, hand shaped bruise on it going down under her skirt to her thigh. Draco gulped and stood quickly, turning his back to her so she didn't notice the lump in his pants, and ran to his bathroom, shutting the door. "Sorry…I…ask one of the servants!" This was definitely too much for him to handle.


	11. Love is a Nightmare

A/N: The song in this chapter is "The Reason" by Hoobastank. I got the lyrics from mp3lyrics.

I know Tom may seem a little (okay, very) out of character in this chapter, but please just bear with me here. There is a method to my madness.

Oh, and to the reviewer that asked, a pregnant silence is a sort of uncomfortable, shocked silence that seems to last forever.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Draco kept her in his room constantly, which caused Ginny to soon become bored out of her mind. Sometimes he left to do Death Eater stuff, always with a cold, hard mask over his face, and not the one all the other Death Eaters wore, but one to hide his emotions. She looked away and pretended not to notice him on those days, and he ignored her as well. But most days he stayed in his rooms with her, having nothing else to do, and not wanting to be in the rest of the house.

He only let her out when he was with her, always carrying his wand as well as a small dagger he kept hidden in his boot. He said it was a backup-if your wand got taken or broken, you could always resort to physical self-defense. Some days they went out to the garden, some days they stayed in and played chess, some days they just stared at the walls for hours, not saying anything. But almost every night, when it wasn't raining, they sat outside and watched the stars in complete silence. Those were the most content, and Ginny would often fall asleep with the cool autumn breeze blowing on her face and Draco's warmth beside her. She would wake to find herself in his bed while he slept on the couch just outside the door.

One day he went out and came back with a bunch of bundles of clothes for her. He said he was sick of seeing the maid's outfit on her, said it looked perverted, and he had bought her new clothes, customized to magically shrink or grow to the wearer's size. She had never owned nice, new clothes before, and he had certainly bought the best: a new, midnight black robe, a pretty yellow dress, and a set of pants and blouses. He even bought her shoes, without incredibly dangerously high heels, so that she didn't trip everywhere she walked.

Ginny spent one rough week in his bed, either sleeping or groaning in pain, a result of the woman's curse, as Miss Maya had put it. The woman came to Draco's room every day that week to give her a potion to help her sleep and keep away the pain.

At first Ginny had not understood what it was. She had spent a year in Azkaban wasting away, and the lack of proper nutrition and health had caused her moonblood to stop. With time and the decay of her mind she had completely forgotten what it was.

It was one day when she sad idly in Draco's room, the two playing chess, that the pain started. At first it had been so weak and barely noticeable that she had thought she had eaten too much and perhaps only had a stomach ache. But the pain slowly and surely worsened until it felt as if her abdomen were squeezing itself together. Her stomach literally was doing summersaults and a sharp pain stabbed at her belly repeatedly in intervals minutes apart. She tried curling into a ball, stretching out, writhing, staying still as possible, but no matter what the pain continued as she began to feel a sickening wetness between her legs. She ran to the bathroom to find her underwear filled with blood, the sight that made her queasy.

At first she tried to tell Draco, but didn't know how to express the intense pain in as few words as possible, much less the fact that she was bleeding in a spot she definitely did not want him to look. Tom finally saved her. Arrogantly leaning against the wall, his arms crossed and one foot braced against the wall with the other on the floor, he sighed in annoyance and pointed out that it was quite obviously her monthly period returning after so long. Things suddenly started clicking and Ginny was delighted, as much as she could be with the pain, to find out she was not truly dying and that this intense ache was supposedly natural.

Unfortunately, Draco had also caught on about the same time she did, without Tom's help, for the phantom was visible and hearable to her only, and promptly freaked out as most men do. He had run about, torn between helping her and being completely grossed out and feeling embarrassed, and had finally done the sensible thing and called up Miss Maya, who had all the remedies needed for feminine situations such as these. The slave had put her in bed with a hot pack, a glass of warm milk, a bar of chocolate, and two potions, one to take away the pain, one to help her sleep soundly.

The week seemed to pass agonizingly slow. Draco tried to keep her company as best he could and ignore her condition, but mostly she was bored, achy, and grumpy, not to mention she felt incredibly icky and gross each day until it finally lightened. She was enthralled when her moonblood eventually ended after what felt like years of torture, but was actually just days.

They heard from Blaise, who relayed messages from Alex. The girl was on the move constantly, Blaise always a call away when she needed help. He had given her a two-way mirror, a rare and useful gift that kept them connected at all times lest something happen to her. Every few days, when he deemed it safe, he would contact Draco and Ginny to let them know Alex was unharmed. She had met up and begun to travel with a doctor escaping the Death Eaters as well. Although she couldn't tell them much, Alex claimed the doctor had examined Ginny while she was in Azkaban, and had learned more about her condition since then, possibly even a way to reverse it. If they ever got to see each other again, at this Alex had become very secretive, he might find a way to undo the magic and return her voice to her.

Tom had reached his full power in the weeks that passed. At first, the only way he could become visible to her was with brief glimpses or in reflective surfaces such as mirrors and still water and polished marble. She tried to ignore him, but they eventually found their common ground, an uneasy comfortableness that they had always shared. He soon could make himself physical to her, able to touch her once more, though he mostly kept his hands to himself, especially when Draco was around. Even though Draco couldn't see Tom, and thanks to Ginny's acting skills that she had honed and perfected all her life, had no clue he even existed, Tom still clearly disliked Draco, and so tended to disappear whenever he was around. Which was fine with Ginny; Draco was around a lot, which meant she didn't have to see Tom very often except for in her dreams.

It was in one such odd dream that they met again a few weeks after Alex's escape. It was the same room as before, but it had changed. There was a set of French doors now with big glass panes that opened out onto a balcony. She stepped out, as well as she could in the high heels and elegant dress he had donned her in, onto the balcony. He stood waiting for her in an old-fashioned suit from his day which fit him elegantly, his hands casually in his pockets as he stared up at a scatter of unrealistically bright stars in the sky. Below them, the ocean broke against sharp cliffs, misting her with sea water. He even managed to make it smell salty. She was impressed, as much as she hated him. "This must have taken a lot of energy."

He nodded and smiled down at her. The fake wind tousled his hair sexily around his head, flashing his dark eyes occasionally between strands of darker hair. It blew her own blood red hair back from her face and off of her shoulders, which she noticed now were bare. "It did. Do you like it, Ginevra?"

She would never admit that she did, but she didn't have too, for as soon as she realized it he laughed mockingly. The bad part about sharing your mind and body with another soul was that he always knew what you were thinking and feeling, especially what you wanted to keep secret. "What else do you like, Ginevra?" He was behind her now, his chest pressed against her back, his arms wrapped around her waist. Tom drew her hair out of the way and buried his face in her neck, trailing kisses lightly up it. She kept her mind blank, trying to block out any thoughts or emotions or images that might evoke him. Tom chuckled darkly in her ear as he nipped at it, sending shivers down her spine. "Do you enjoy that, Ginevra?"

He knew she did, as much as she hated it. The other downside to sharing a body was that the other soul could not only feel your emotions, but that you could feel theirs. It was a horrible connection, but she always knew when he was angry or happy or, in this case, excited. She tried to push back his overwhelming, dominant emotions, but as his lips returned to her neck and began biting, she closed her eyes and gave into the fluttering in her stomach and the rushing of her heart.

"Please stop, Tom." They had never done this before, in all the time they had known each other. He had kissed her many times, yes, but then it had always been about dominance, about control. Now, there was a new, strange emotion that she didn't understand radiating off of him and washing over her. It was more than the fact that he was randy, it was something else, a strange sort of possessiveness, attraction, jealousy, all mixed into one. And something else. Something she just could comprehend.

"You feel it, don't you, what I feel for you? But you're confused. Let me spell it out for you, Ginevra." He turned her around so she was facing him and she gasped at his dark eyes churning with emotion. His lips crashed onto hers roughly and as much as she wanted to push him away, she also wanted to pull him nearer. One of his hands ran through her silky hair while the other ran over her curves, exploring. She could feel his hard manhood pressed firmly between her legs, but he did not do anything besides kiss her, albeit roughly, as if he could not get enough of her, as if it were the last time he would ever see her. He pulled away and his dark, stormy eyes stared into hers. The emotions whirling in them frightened her and Ginny tried to look away, but he grabbed her chin and forced her to keep her eyes locked in his gaze.

And then he began to sing, his beautiful voice caressing and washing over her smoother than any silk. It was ecstasy, just to hear his deep, melodious voice, especially when he to her, about her, for her. She wanted to close her eyes and get lost in the sound, but she was trapped, her vision tunnel like, unable to see anything but him.

I'm not a perfect person  
There's many things I wish I didn't do  
But I continue learning  
I never meant to do those things to you  
And so I have to say before I go  
That I just want you to know

I've found a reason for me  
To change who I used to be  
A reason to start over new  
and the reason is you

I'm sorry that I hurt you  
It's something I must live with everyday  
And all the pain I put you through  
I wish that I could take it all away  
And be the one who catches all your tears  
That's why I need you to hear

I've found a reason for me  
To change who I used to be  
A reason to start over new  
And the reason is you  
And the reason is you

And the reason is you

And the reason is you

I'm not a perfect person  
I never meant to do those things to you  
And so I have to say before I go  
That I just want you to know

I've found a reason for me  
To change who I used to be  
A reason to start over new  
And the reason is you

I've found a reason to show  
A side of me you didn't know  
A reason for all that I do  
And the reason is you

"I love you, Ginevra. That is this emotion. I love you because you are a part of me and there is no way I could not love you." She backed away from his embrace, her eyes wide. Love? He could not love. He was the younger Lord Voldemort, the most evil wizard alive. He did not know love. He could not feel love. She was certain of it. "Please, Ginevra." His eyes darkened as he heard her thoughts. "Is that what you think of me, Ginevra? Have we not been together for years? Have you not grown attached to me as I have you?" He grabbed her by the waist, pulling her into his arms. "You once had feelings for me."

"I was eleven, then, Tom, and that was before you tried to kill me." Ginny stared around her, looking for an escape, but it was futile. How could you escape from your dreams, from your own mind? He forced her to look back at him.

"When will you ever forgive me for that?! I have apologized a million times-"

"As if you ever meant it-"

"And now I am spilling out my heat to you-"

"I don't want to hear it-"

"That I _love_ you, Ginevra. I love you, and it frightens me, but it also feels so good. And you will, you _do_, love me back!" He crushed his lips onto hers, and, try as she might, she couldn't fight him off. She wanted to stay angry, but the feelings washing over her were too strong. Before she knew what was happening they were on his bed, him on top of her. His jacket was on the floor, but he was still wearing his pants, to her relief.

Ecstasy washed over her as his hands untied the front of her dress and pulled it away, leaving her in nothing but a pair of black silk panties. She could see the lust in his eyes, overwhelming her, and in the rigid stance of his body. Tom's eyes roamed over her mostly naked body, despite how she wiggled and squirmed beneath him in an attempt to cover up her nudity. His breathing was hard and his body stiff as he put a hand to her face and trailed it down to her bare chest. Tom pushed her arms away, making her blush in shame and embarrassment as he roamed his hands over her bare breasts. "Tom, please, stop. I…I'm still a virgin."

He grinned wickedly and leaned over her, his breath hot against her ear. She shivered and closed her eyes as he whispered, nicking at her ear, "You still will be after this, dear Ginevra. I am not touching your physical body, only your mind, your soul. Physically you will still be pure and untouched."

"You know what I mean. Virginity isn't just physical, Tom. And I don't want to lose it to you. Ever." She tried to look away, tried to hate him, tried to want him just a little bit less.

Anger flared in his eyes as he pinned her to the bed with his hands. "What do you mean by that?!" Tom hissed, eyes flashing red.

She glared at him, his anger feeding hers and clearing her head of the overwhelming lust. "I mean, I don't want you. I never have and never will. And I certainly don't love you." There was an intense sharp pain in her face as the sound of his stinging slap reverberated about the room. His eyes were completely red now as he leered angrily at her and ripped at her underwear. Ginny fought him, clawing at his eyes with her hands and pushing his hands away from her private area where he was trying desperately to defile her. They were the same strength, and so as they rolled around on the bed fighting, it quickly became clear that neither was going to win. They could hear the other's thoughts, know their next move, what hurt them, what intensified the hatred.

They could have fought forever like that if Draco's voice hadn't invaded the dream, cutting sharply into her mind and ripping her away from Tom's clutches. "Ginny. Ginny, wake up!" She suddenly felt as if she were being shaken, and her mind began to clear. The dream slowly started to fade away, Tom still glaring at her like a serpent about to strike, and she found herself waking up in Draco's warm arms.

"Oh, thank goodness, I was so worried. You really freaked me out there, Ginny, started tossing and screaming and fighting. You got me pretty bloody good too, right in the eye." He grinned and shrugged off her apology. "Were you having another nightmare?"

Ginny nodded and shuddered. She was covered in sweat and her heart was beating at an incredible rate. Fear and hatred and all of the other emotions that had been coated over by Tom's love for her suddenly overwhelmed her. She found herself crying in Draco's arms, him holding her close and rocking her back and forth, stroking her sweaty hair. "Shh, it was just a dream, it'll be okay. I'm here now, Ginny. I'm here to protect you. Everything will be alright." She clutched at his nightshirt and cried until she had no tears left and felt exhausted. "You need to go back to sleep, Ginny."

Ginny shook her head and cried out as he got up to leave her. Her arms stretched out towards him like a child for a hug. "Stay."

He looked confused, even grim, for a moment before consenting and going to the other side of the bed, pulling back the covers and crawling in beside her. Ginny pressed against his body, her head buried in his warm chest as he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. "I'll stay and protect you forever Ginny." Draco stroked her hair out of her face and kissed her forehead as her eyes began to droop wearily. Before she drifted off she heard him whisper, "You won't have any bad dreams with me here." And she didn't.


	12. Secrets Revealed

A/N: Well, here is chapter twelve! Yay! Sorry the update is a bit late, you guys know I try to get it to you over the weekend and it's Monday night already, but hopefully it will do. And I'm already working on the next chapter, so there you go!

I just want to say to all my readers that although I don't respond to reviews personally, or if I do only on rare occasions, I still read and love each and every review that I get, so please keep reviewing, flame or praise, even if it's just two words or so. Every review a writer gets on his/her story is a huge motivational boost to keep writing. And thank you to all my readers who loyally read my story and respond to it. I really appreciate it!

Now, on to the chapter. Have fun. ;)

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

"Mister Malfoy! Mister Malfoy sir!" yelled a loud voice as two men came tumbling into Lucius's study, interrupting him as he stared sullenly out the window, musing to himself. He looked up with a quirked eyebrow and an annoyed expression on his chiseled face at two of his men, lower Death Eaters, scum really, as they fought for his attention, both speaking at once. Lucius closed his eyes, trying not to get a headache, and raised a manicured hand, effectively silencing them.

"What, may I ask, is so _dire _that you must interrupt me with it?" They both opened their mouths to speak, but were quickly silenced by a glare. "One at a time!"

"Sir, we overheard a very interesting conversation while tapping into the floo network."

The other man nodded enthusiastically. "Your son, sir, speaking with Blaise Zabini about your recently runaway slave."

Lucius felt his blood boil at the mention. To think that a mindless, pathetic mudblood slave girl could not only better him, but manage to escape right out from under his nose! But he was not surprised, irate, but not surprised, to find his son and his friend involved in the escape. He clenched his hands around his wand, nearly breaking it in anger.

"But that is not all, sir! We heard something that might really interest you. Blaise Zabini was discussing with your son a wizard he had met up with, one who had studied Weasley just before escaping from the Dark Lord's clutches. And, he said he may have a lead on how to get her to speak again. Possibly, even, what her secret is!"

Lucius's interest peak and he shot up quickly and began to pace. "Do you know how? Do you know where this man is?"

"They did not go into details in their discussion, however, they did let slip a valuable piece of information-where they were headed next. They were going to take a portkey to Wales and hide out there in a safe haven for refugees escaping our Lord Voldemort's regime. With some calculation and maps we've got a rough area where we think this hideout may be."

Lucius nodded, taking in this information. This could be their big break, this could get him in the Dark Lord's favor once more. Not only that, he could finally get Ginny Weasley off his mind and out of his life, of course after finally fulfilling his darkest desires with the young, pretty girl. He smiled wickedly and looked at his men. "Go there, intercept them. Bring me two prisoners alive, the rest I want killed, though I don't care what you do with them before you slaughter them. Bring me this wizard and bring me my slave. I want to see she is properly punished. Make sure neither escapes! There will be a great reward for both of their heads, alive, and great punishment if one or both dies or gets away. Go, now!"

The men nodded and left. Lucius sat back in his chair, staring out the window at the gardens where his son and Ginny Weasley were walking along the grounds like lovebirds. His blood boiled, but he resisted the temptation to kill them both on the spot. No, he wanted them to be shocked and distraught over this new revelation. Let them think for now they were safe. Soon they would both be suffering.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Lucius stared at the pathetic, pitiful man before him as he groveled on the cold stone floor of his cell in the Malfoy dungeons. He kicked the wizard, smirking at the way the man trembled, and stooped over, grabbing him by the chin and making their eyes meet. "So this is the wizard who believes he knows how to fix my problem with the last remaining Weasley. Tell me, wizard, what you know, before I kill you."

The groveling man looked up at him with fearful eyes. Lucius loved that, the fear he saw. Fear was what gave him power, control. Fear was what would save him, was what would make him the Dark Lord's right hand man, and possibly his successor. Fear. He lived for fear. "S-sir, I know this g-girl of which you speak. I-I researched her, you see, for the the the Dark Lord. Studied her. All sorts of tests, and nothing! I was befuddled. But then, you see, I stumbled across something, something very interesting." He grinned like a maniac up at Lucius.

"Well, spit it out then, scum!" Lucius glared at him angrily. He was really beginning to get pissed off now.

"F-for a p-price, s-sir. I will tell you what you w-want to know, b-but you must first p-promise not to kill me for betraying the D-Dark Lord. I was acting out of f-foolish fear." The man smiled at him with mischievous, tricky eyes. So he wanted to make a deal did he? Lucius would make him a deal alright.

"How about you _spit it out_ and I consider it?!" He grabbed the man by the collar of his torn, dirty shirt, lifting him up. He was frail and weak from weeks of running and starving. He nodded quickly and Lucius dropped him to the ground.

"No, Grindle, don't tell him!" screamed a feminine voice from the cell adjacent. Lucius whipped around to find his slave there glaring at him, her face pressed against the metal bars, her hands clutching them tightly in anger.

Lucius smirked and flicked the Cruciatus Curse at her nonchalantly, watching how she screamed in pain, despite how hard she tried not to. He lifted it slowly, after many long, torturous seconds. "I suggest you keep your mouth shut, little birdie. I will get to you soon enough." Malfoy turned back to the wizard Grindle expectantly. "You were saying, _before_ I cut out your tongue?"

"W-well, yes, you see, some months ago I stumbled on the answer completely by accident. I was at an Order hideout and they had some of the few remaining, surviving memories of Albus Dumbledore from just before he was killed. The Aurors kept the secrets locked up tight, but one night I slipped in and opened the chest and looked into the pensieve. Amazing, it was, truly incredible, that man is a genius! However, one memory in particular stood out to me because it involved Ginny Weasley, of whom I was most curious then and still am. It was the memory of a ceremony, a very secret, private ceremony, between just Albus Dumbledore and Ginny Weasley."

Lucius cocked an eyebrow with a perplexed expression. He had never known Dumbledore to be as interested and active with the younger ladies as he was. And he had never expected Ginny Weasley to be into men over a hundred years old. Grindle looked at him with perplexity before catching onto his thoughts. "Oh, no! Nothing like that, you pervert! It was a private ceremony because of how dire Ms. Weasley's secret was. Not even her family knew it. Dumbledore took it to his grave, or so he thought. You see, in the ceremony Miss Weasley and Dumbledore were chanting and as they did, a firey red aura seemed to surround and leave her, entering him. The language was unknown to me, older than Latin, I can assure you, a lost language most definitely. Dumbledore cut-off the ceremony just before it could be ended and told Ginny Weasley that if she was ever to be captured by the dark side, all she need do it utter the last word of the chant and her voice would leave her so that her secret would never be revealed. It was a safety precaution more than anything. Dumbledore, being the only other person to know her secret, would be the safe-keeper of her voice. Once the war ended and she escaped, given she was ever caught, she need only return to him and he would give her her voice back."

Grindle grinned at Lucius from the floor, his stutter leaving as his voice grew in volume, becoming more dramatic. By the end he looked like a mad wizard embarking on a new discovery. Perhaps he was.

"Then what about the fact that she couldn't write the answers to our questions? How come a truth serum wouldn't work? Or the Imperius Curse? Why would _nothing_ work?!"

"Ahh, Dumbledore was a tricky, smart old man. He knew everything you would come up with before you even thought it. He needed defenses at every turn, and this ritual, this ancient magic, answered that need. Ancient magic is very finicky and fickle about its performance, but the spell seemed to work, incredibly, in fact, for Ginny Weasley still can not speak, even after Dumbledore's death!"

Lucius began to pace. This was good. He knew the origin of the spell, was confirmed in his belief that it was old magic. But how to undo it with Dumbledore dead and Ginny Weasley unable to speak? And what, exactly, was the secret she kept hidden under lock and key so dearly? He voiced his questions to Grindle.

"Ahh, well…that's where things became a bit more confusing and vague. You see, the only information I gathered as to why Ginny Weasley needed to hide such a dire secret was a name. Tom Riddle. I could make nothing of it, but perhaps you could?"

Lucius's head snapped up as he stared into the wizard's eyes, trying to find any hint of a lie, but there was none. Tom Riddle? Of course he knew the name. That was the name of his Lord Voldemort as a teenager. That was the name used by the Horcrux Lucius had given to Ginny Weasley in her First year. Did this mean that the Horcrux was somehow still out there, somehow still held the fragment of the soul of Lord Voldemort?

But how was that possible? He had held the dead, empty book in his hands with a hole in it and dripping Basilisk venom. He had felt no stirring of life. Harry Potter had surely destroyed the Horcrux, or so he believed, but did Ginny Weasley perhaps believe it still housed Voldemort's soul? Did she know its whereabouts? He had thrown it in the trash after he thought it destroyed, but had he been wrong?

This was all very interesting indeed. Now he understood Voldemort's interest in Ginny Weasley. Perhaps Voldemort could feel some stirring of this fragmented soul somewhere in the world. Perhaps he speculated, but was not sure, needed proof. Perhaps Ginny Weasley had the answers to all of Lucius's, and Voldemort's, questions.

"How?!" Lucius grabbed the man by the collar once more and shook him. "How do I undo the spell?!"

"First of all, _you_ can't undo it, only Ginny Weasley can. Second of all, it isn't a spell, it is old magic, which is much more complex than any spell. And third of all, I do not know exactly, I have only a guess based on my observations, a guess that may be very wrong. If I am wrong, it could claim the life of Ginny Weasley, and her secret would be lost forever. If I am right, it could return her voice to her."

"Just tell me, damnit!" Lucius threw him against the wall, ignoring the girl's outburst from the next cell over.

"Well sir," said Grindle, looking smug, "essentially you have to kill her."

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

"Ginny! Draco! Where are you?!" Draco looked up from where he had been sitting beside a sleeping Ginny, stroking her hair and admiring her beauty. He had taken to watching her sleep often, unbeknownst to the naïve girl.

She had no clue how he watched her. She had no clue how her eyelids fluttered in her sleep, brushing her eyelashes against her soft, creamy, pale skin. She had no clue how she murmured to herself or how she sighed or how her hands twitched around his fingers or how her hair fell in her face so enticingly. She had no clue how much he loved her.

It was on one such peaceful night as Draco sat beside her watching her sleep, exhausted but unable to pull himself away to go lay on his couch which, although soft and luxurious, gave him a neck cramp every morning, that Blaise came rushing into his room half dressed looking as if the hounds of hell were biting at his feet, waking Ginny and rousing Draco out of his trance. They both looked up in surprise, and a bit sleepily on Ginny's part, at Draco's friend whose face clearly revealed that something had gone terribly wrong.

"It's Alex, Draco." Draco shot a glance at Ginny. They had told Ginny that Alex had escaped, but nothing more, for fear of what she might say under torture. However, now it seemed, as Blaise began to pull clothes out of Draco's drawer (making him blush when his silky black boxers landed on the bed next to Ginny) that keeping everything kept under lock and key was no longer and issue. "She's been captured, by your father and his Death Eaters. I don't know where she is-if she's here, in Azkaban, or…dead. I just don't know. But I do know that your father is coming for Ginny."

"Wait, wait, what?! You don't know what's happened to her? And what do you mean my father's coming for Ginny?!" Draco jumped up, grabbing his friend by the shoulders and looking him in the eyes. "What's going on, Blaise?!"

"Draco, the man that was caught with Alex is a wizard by the name of Grindle. He studied Ginny's…condition, and he knows something about it, perhaps how to reverse it, I'm not sure. All I know is it's a matter of time before your father tortures him into speaking and then once he knows enough, he'll come here for Ginny."

Draco looked at Ginny, who was sitting on the bed staring at her shaking hands, tears forming in her eyes. She looked distraught over this news. Possibly in shock. Draco gazed back at Blaise. "Wait, how do you know all of this?"

Blaise suddenly looked incredibly guilty as he went about throwing more clothes onto the pile. "Because…I was there. There was nothing I could do, Draco! My father took me along and I couldn't stop it, couldn't stop them! I didn't even see Alex until they were taking her away in chains, that wizard beside her. They-we-killed everyone else. Clearly your father went there looking specifically for Alex and that wizard! Somehow they found out, as careful as we were!"

"The floo. They intercepted us speaking through floo. Damnit! I knew we should have been more careful!" Draco picked Ginny up from where she lay in the bed and stood her up. Her long, white, silky nightgown went down to her ankles in loose, flowy folds of satin, though the top hugged her curvy chest and tiny waist beautifully. Draco had to pull his eyes away from the way her blood red hair contrasted to the nightgown to grab his blue traveling cloak, his warmest one, and throw it over her shoulders, clasping it. It was too long on her, trailing on the ground behind her, but it would have to do.

He looked her in the eyes, trying to ignore the fear and trepidation growing there by the second. "Ginny, we have to leave now, we don't have time to even worry about clothes. We have to pack our necessary things and leave. Is there anything you absolutely need?" She shook her head no. He nodded and threw his clothes and what little there were of hers into a traveling bag and shrunk it down, sticking it in his pocket. "I need my broom and my cloak."

"I'll get your broom, you find your new invisibility cloak." Draco nodded and he and Blaise split up to gather his remaining items as Ginny swayed beside his bed, looking sick. They were still searching for his broom when the door opened and Draco looked up to see his father walk in, his expression cold and hateful.

"Going somewhere, Draco?"

x x x x x x x x x x x x x

"Kill her?!" Lucius yelled, shoving the man against the wall. "How in the bloody hell would that help anything, you dimwit?! I ought to-"

"Please, please listen!" whimpered the wizard Grindle with a cry. "I know it may seem to defeat the purpose, to kill her-"

"You don't say?!"

"But you must realize that it is the only way to get her voice back! You see, Albus Dumbledore has her voice now. He performed the ritual so that he would take it with him everywhere for safekeeping! Even if that meant to the grave! You must kill Ginny Weasley, temporarily, let her seek out Dumbledore and get her voice back, and then revive her quickly before she can truly die! Obviously you can't use the Killing Curse, for it kills instantly and no one can be revived from it. No, you'll have to use some old-fashioned method of stopping her heard momentarily and then starting it back again!"

"I say we start with you!" Lucius yelled, sticking his wand into Grindle's throat. The man shook his head quickly and nervously.

"No, no! Only Ginny Weasley can get her voice back! That is the way the spell is! She must approach Albus Dumbledore herself and request it back and he will give it back if he sees fit! This is all theory, it is true, but the only way for her to have her voice returned is to meet him once more, and the only way she can do that is in death!"

"And if this crazy theory _does_ work?" Lucius asked with a low growl, narrowing his eyes.

"Then the rest is up to you! Figure out Ginny Weasley's secret and do what you must!" The fidgety little wizard shifted nervously, wringing his hands.

Lucius smirked and pressed the wand further into the man's neck. "Then I guess that means I have no more need for you. Avada Kedavra!" There was a scream before the body went slack, the eyes lifeless. Lucius dropped the useless corpse to the ground with a thud and walked to the other cell, unlocking it. His runaway slave crouched against the wall like a wild animal, glaring at him. "You, up. I may need you for…motivational purposes."


	13. Death

A/N: Well, here's chapter thirteen. Things are finally starting to get good, and I'm on fire lately. Just finished fourteen and now I'm about to start writing fifteen, woot! But I wouldn't want to overwhelm all of my readers with too many updates at once, so I'll space the new chapters out by a few days ;) I have to keep you guys reading and reviewing somehow, don't I? Well, as always, reviews make me extra happy, and might make the next chapter get posted by Friday. Until then!

Oh, and just to answer a reviewer that asked, I did get the name Grindle in the last chapter from the infamous Grindelwald, however they are not related in any way. Grindle is just a minor character and now he's dead, so he's really not that important.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Ginny was thrown down before a crowd of gathered Death Eaters. There weren't so many this time and they wore robes and masks instead of grand ballroom outfits and suits. The room was not as bright as before, for the giant chandelier was not lit, but the hard marble floor was just as cold and cruel, reflecting her face, and Tom's behind hers, back at her. She ignored the excitement resonating off of him and looked around her surroundings, trying to find Draco's face amongst the crowd of expressionless masks and evil eyes.

Voldemort smiled, his ugly face twisting in a cruel smirk as he stared down at Lucius kneeled before him, Ginny by his side in only her nightgown and Draco's traveling cloak. She shivered from cold and wrapped her arms around her body as those cruel red eyes met hers, making her look away. Tom, on the other hand, was clearly not afraid as he walked amongst the Death Eaters, unseen, like a phantom or a ghost or a shadow.

"_My, I do age horribly, don't I? I look like shit, Ginevra. Please tell me my handsome face doesn't turn into that naturally?_" Tom asked, looking in distaste at Voldemort.

_No. That face is the product of a soul being split many, many times. _

Voldemort's face changed momentarily and Ginny felt a strange feeling, as if he could see into her mind, into her thoughts, as if he were probing around in a place where he did not belong, violating her, invading her soul and tapping into her secrets. _He seems angry._

"_Perhaps. But his face always looks like that, doesn't it? Ahh, that feeling, Ginevra, would be him reading your thoughts. Be careful what you think."_

She gasped in surprise and quickly tried to clear her head, for she knew no way of blocking him out, but how could she with Tom talking to her right beside her like a living, breathing person, unseen by all but her?

"_He's angry because you've got an impenetrable defense system around any thoughts that contain me. But I mean, really, I don't make that hissing noise naturally, do I?"_

_Shut up! _The Dark Lord stood, towering above her, even without the steps his throne sat upon. "Did you have sssomething to sssay to me, Weasley?" She shook her head, fear gripping her heart.

"_He can't hear me, Ginevra. Only you. I doubt he liked you telling him to shut up."_ She felt as though she had been punched in the stomach and looked down at the cold floor below her, trying to catch her breath. Footsteps echoed in the silent room as Voldemort stepped closer to her, until she could see his shoes right before her, and knew he stood leering down at her.

"Why, may I ask, My Lord, have we been called here on such short notice?" asked a feminine voice as a Death Eater kneeled down before Voldemort, asking the question on everyone's mind, even Ginny's.

Voldemort turned to Lucius. "You may rise, Lucius." The man beside Ginny did so, and she continued staring at the floor, trying to block out Tom's ramblings as he observed his older self. "Why don't you tell them, Lucius? Tell them what you have discovered. And let's hope, for the life of you, that this leads to something, shall we?"

Lucius cleared his throat after a moment, nervously, and began speaking. "Ginny Weasley has been my charge for the past year as I've tried to uncover whatever secret the Order of the Phoenix bestowed upon her. Clearly, it was dire enough to cause this young, innocent girl to be silenced, by some means which we knew nothing about. Today, I captured a man who did know the means by which she was silenced."

Ginny closed her eyes. No. This couldn't be happening. They couldn't know.

"Old magic, performed by Dumbledore, part of a ritual to hide a dire secret involving one of Voldemort's Horcruxes, which, up until now, we believed all to be destroyed by the Order and their lap-dog, Harry Potter."

There was an uproar at the name and hushed whispering as well as angry cries of rage and triumph. The Golden Boy had been dead for over a year now, at the Death Eater's hands, something they prided themselves on.

"You see, I have tortured and questioned a man, until he died, to discover a way to undo this spell and return her voice. This, with some motivation, will ultimately lead us to discover the surviving Horcrux, making our Dark Lord stronger and younger!"

A triumphant yell wend through the crowds as Tom rolled his eyes. _"Dimwitted fools. They know nothing of old magic. I do hope they are right, though. No offense, Ginevra, but I am a bit tired of being in you. I wouldn't mind being in you once I had my own body, though."_

Ginny ignored him as she tried to still the pounding of her heart. Suddenly she was ripped off the ground by her hair and stood before the assembly of Death Eaters, their masks leering at her like monsters out of a nightmare. She trembled in fear and tried to back away but Lucius stopped her. "I bet you're curious as to how to get your voice back, Miss Weasley?"

Of course she was. After her ceremony with Dumbledore she was told if she was ever captured, she need only utter the final word to the chant and her voice would go to Dumbledore for safe-keeping. If, theoretically, this ever happened, when she was freed or the war ended or she was rescued, she could return to Dumbledore and her voice returned to her body. However, he had died shortly after the ceremony, and when she was captured, knowing he was dead, she still finished the ritual in the hopes of preventing Tom from being unleashed upon the magical world. Her voice was taken, as she had hoped, but she had no clue as to how to get it back from a dead man.

"You see, Miss Weasley, you have to die." Die? Die? She wanted to, wanted to dearly, wanted to be free of Tom and of this world. Would she miss Draco in death? Perhaps, but she knew one day he would follow after her and join her. But if they planned to kill her, why not just do that from the start? "But, I do not want you thinking you are escaping to death forever. After you die you are to seek out Dumbledore and have your voice returned to you. I will revive you shortly after killing you, and you had better be speaking, or else your friend will have to suffer, and it will all be your fault."

Friend? Who was he speaking of? She looked over, saw for the first time what she had completely overlooked amongst the crowded room and her confusion. Alex, her dear, close friend, the woman with the lovely voice, the one who had brought her back to life, was chained to the floor, struggling against her captors and her bindings, her face angry. Her eyes met Ginny's and she smiled at her encouragingly. "Don't tell them anything Ginny! Nothing, you hear! Not a damn word! Just forget about me! I'm strong, Ginny, I'll live! But you can't go through with this!" But even as she said it they hit her on the back of the head with a heavy piece of wood, making her head bleed and her eyes tear. Still, she tried smiling weakly at Ginny.

"_Wait, what?! No, damnit, if you bloody well kill her you'll kill me as well, you dimwitted fools!"_ Tom was irate, yelling at the men who could not hear them. He turned his glare to Ginny, knowing she was the only one who could see it. _"Damnit, Ginevra, you bring me back with you. Don't think you can shake me off just because they kill you momentarily. If you do, I'll become a ghost and haunt you for the rest of your pathetic, miserable existence."_

_As if I didn't have to deal with that already._ She shivered in fear as Lucius Malfoy conjured up a stone basin filled to the brim with water. Ginny struggled as he dragged her closer by her hair until she leaned over it, her arms clasped tightly to the stone rim, staring at her reflection in the peaceful water. Tom was behind her, his hand grasping her shoulders tightly, and she saw something in his eyes she had never expected: fear.

"_Ginevra…please don't leave me for long. You know I need you to survive."_

_I have lived my life to prevent you from surviving. _She closed her eyes and turned her head away.

"_Ginevra, please! I love you! I know I may have been horrible to you, but you heard my confession before, and even though you won't accept it, you must understand. I don't want to die. I don't want you to die."_

_My life is the whim of others now, Tom._ He glared ferociously at Lucius, wanting to hit him, to stop him, but knowing that there was nothing he could do. He slammed his fist against the stone rim of the well, but it did not so much as flutter the air in the place. Ginny smiled sadly at him as Lucius thrust her head down into the water, which was bitterly cold. It soaked her hair and face and splashed onto her dress, making her numb.

She panicked, her natural instincts for survival kicking in, as much as she may have once wished for death. Ginny suddenly realized now that she did not want to die, did not want to leave this world. What would happen to Draco, Alex, and Blaise if she did not come back? What would happen to her if she did?

And what of death? She did not believe in Heaven or Hell, after what she went through, so what would she see? Would it be blissful darkness, nothingness? Was she wrong in her beliefs? Would she become a ghost or pass on into that unknown realm?

And if she did get her voice back? She would surely break under torture. What evil would she unleash upon the wizarding world if Tom was able to be reborn? Would she be remembered for all eternity as the woman that destroyed the wizarding world and put him on the throne?

All of these questions flashed before her mind, however her life did not, contrary to the stories she had once heard. Pain engulfed her and she panicked, unable to breathe, even to think. Ginny could hear nothing except her heart beat in her ears. Her lungs were restricting as she tried to hold her breath against the cold water threatening to enter her body. She could not hold her breath any longer and she opened her mouth, trying to breathe in air, but only water entered her lungs.

Ginny opened her eyes but saw only darkness, pulling her down, sucking her in deeper. There was no bottom to the stone basin anymore, it was like a void pulling her into nothingness. And down she fell with it, unable and unwanting to resist it. Ginny floated through darkness, through nothingness, down, down, down, falling forever into the unknown, her dress and hair flying around her, as if she were truly underwater, no gravity to pull them down.

Here she was weightless. She could not hear her heartbeat anymore, could not feel her pulse. She could not see or hear or taste or smell or feel. Ginny was empty of emotions except for a sort of sad bliss as she reflected on her life, on her friends, but soon those memories too were gone, swallowed up and forgotten by the emptiness all around her.

An old man was before her, and vaguely she recognized him. His long white beard and hair flowed down past his feet. His blue eyes twinkled merrily behind half-moon spectacles. His long gray robe billowed behind him in the lack of air.

"Dumbledore?" she whispered, eyes sad. He smiled at her and nodded. "Professor, is that really you?"

"It is, Ginny," Dumbledore whispered, voice as gravelly and old as time, as it always had been. "But you need not call me Professor anymore. It is not my name. Nor is Dumbledore, really. I have no more name here. Though I suppose that's what I went by once upon a time."

Ginny's forehead wrinkled in confusion. "Then what should I call you?"

"Ahh, as I said, names have no meaning here. But I suppose if you must call me something, call me…Albus. Yes, that was once my name."

"Albus…" Ginny stared around her at the nothingness. "What is this place?"

"This, my dear, is Death." Albus smiled at her.

"Death…it's not what I expected."

"It is, in fact, everything you expected and ever hoped for. This is your Death. You can be assured that my Death, that everyone's Death, is much different from this Death. Death is what we believe it to be."

"I don't understand." The girl asked, her voice small. She suddenly looked frightened as the reality that she was indeed dead began to sink in.

"You won't. You can't, unless you truly die, and you are not meant to stay here, my dear. You came for your voice, I presume?"

Ginny nodded slowly, feeling horrible, knowing she was betraying him. He reached towards her but she backed away in fear. "No…I…If I have my voice back, I will unleash Tom into the world. It's so horrible, but I don't know what to do." She felt panic rising anew in her. "Albus, they have my friend, they will kill her. How do I know what's right? Is it right to let her die by my hand? Is it right to let the entire wizarding world die by my hand? It is a horrible decision and I don't want to make it!"

Albus placed a hand on her head, patting it affectionately. "Ginny, sometimes…there isn't always a right decision. Sometimes you have to choose from two wrong decisions. The lesser of two evils, as they put it, or perhaps the greater. I've always admired loyalty and friendship above all else, above bravery or cunning or intelligence. But it is your decision to make, and you don't have much time to make it."

Ginny didn't understand what he was talking about for a moment, but suddenly she felt a sharp pain in her chest, making her groan and grab at her heart. "What's going on?!" She suddenly felt as though she needed to breathe, but a huge weight pressed on her chest from all sides.

"They're reviving you, or trying to, but my you're definitely fighting it." Albus smiled at her and took her hand. "You need to decide now, my dear, if you want your voice back or not."

The pain faded away momentarily, allowing her to breathe, though she felt no need to here. She stared at the man who had once been her mentor and teacher, her young hand in his old, withered ones, more wrinkled and aged and spotted than a giant old gnarled tree. Her shoulders drooped with the pressure of her decision, but she thought of her friend, Alex, the woman who had done so much for her, who had bathed her of her blood and brought her back from the dead, who had taught her how to speak, how to dress, how to eat, who had danced with her in the air and sung to her, who had protected her from Lucius. This woman had done so much for her. Ginny owed her life, countless times, to Alex. This was the least she could do.

And suddenly she realized that her decision had been made all along. As horrible as it may be, to bring Tom back into the world, it was even more horrible to let this person that she loved so much die. And who was to say she had to bring Tom back? There was always another way. She could lie, could let them believe their little story about the Horcrux. She and Alex and Blaise and Draco could escape, and though she would have to live with Tom's wrath forever, what else was new?

"How do I get it back?!" she asked, as the pain suddenly came back, sharp and intense, in her chest. She tried to ignore it and stay focused on Albus, though he suddenly seemed to fade, like an illusion or ghost, like Tom was in her world. Or perhaps she was the illusion, perhaps she was the one fading away. She didn't know.

"Ginny, you already do." Ginny stared at him in confusion. "When you decided that your friendship and love for another was stronger than even Tom, your voice recognized that. It has wanted you back, it merely needed you to accept it back." Albus looked all around him with a contented sigh. "And now, you must go, Ginny."

And suddenly he was gone, even as she reached out to pull him back. Pain enveloped her as she felt a pulling sensation at her chest. Her head was becoming cloudy, or perhaps it was becoming clearer? Her heart leaped in her chest and Ginny was acutely aware of her hot blood painfully rushing through her veins and past her ears.

But something held her back. Her name was being screamed by an all too familiar voice. Ginny looked around the darkness to find Tom swimming towards her through nothingness, fading in and out of sight. _"Ginevra! Ginevra, please do not leave without me!"_

Suddenly Ginny knew what must be done. She must leave him here, in this dead world, once and for all. He could never haunt her again, could never threaten the wizarding world once more. Yet she saw the panic and fear in his eyes as he reached towards her, looking hopeless. He was scared, Ginny realized. He was truly afraid for his life.

Tom fought to reach her, as if he were being pulled back into the darkness, into death, where he belonged. But he wanted to live. She understood that desire in his eyes, that longing for life. Even as she felt the jerky pull at her chest, the rush of blood in her body, the pounding of her weak heart trying to start up once more, she felt she couldn't leave him, not here, not in this darkness, not like this. It was wrong, so horribly wrong, but she reached her hand towards his, and he seemed to get closer, even as she was pulled away. _"Ginevra, please!"_

Ginny fought against the pull of life, against the sudden need to breathe, the pounding in her head, the hot feel of blood in her veins. Sounds of people whispering and someone crying distantly echoed in her ears as a man yelled. Images flashed before her eyes of a bright room and black cloaks and white, evil, emotionless masks. She reached, trying to extend her short arms to him. There fingertips were just centimeters apart, but still the distance seemed like miles as her eyes watered. Her dress suddenly felt wet and heavy, as did her hair. The need for air was becoming unbearable. Tom's voice was distant now, his image fading, as her eyes slowly blinked open and closed. Darkness, nothingness, then light, a room, life. A few times she blinked and each time it changed as she teetered on the edge of life and death. She realized as she reached for him, their fingertips just barely touching, that this was the last time. The next time she blinked she would be truly alive, and he would be stuck here in this nothingness. His screaming was drowned out by the sounds of the room, but she kept her eyes on him, reached, as far as she could. She couldn't leave him here.

And then their hands were touching, she was pulling him towards her, with her, bracing herself against the pull of death on his body. Death wanted Tom, wanted him badly. He had eluded it too many times. But she would not, could not allow it. She yanked as hard as she could.

And then Ginny was back in the room, on the cold, hard marble floors, her clothes soaked and masks crowded around her. Alex was crying out her name, clearly thinking her dead. Tom lay beside her, his transparent body fading in and out of view in exhaustion, but he was not dead, that was for certain. He was not alive, had never been, but he was not dead.

Lucius was leaning over her with his wand pointed at her. So he had been the one to revive her. His eyes showed his shock, and it was obvious they had thought her a goner. Ginny sat up slowly, without help, and leaned against the stone basin, looking around her. "Can you speak?" Lucius asked, his face switching from worried to angry. "Say something!"

Ginny coughed up water and gulped in the air like a hungry man, letting it fill her lungs, revive her. Sweet, life-giving air. She had never realized how beautiful it was until she was without it. She would never take air or breath for granted again. Ginny opened her mouth, forming it around the words, and at first no sound came out. Then she whispered, quietly, her voice raw from lack of use, "Fuck…you…"


	14. My Immortal

A/N: The song used in this chapter is My Immortal by Evanescence. I also, obviously, named this chapter after the title of the song. I got the lyrics courtesy of lyricsmode.

I just want to say to all of my reviewers, every single one, that I read and loved your reviews. Each time I got a new one it was like receiving a gift. I'm so glad you all loved the ending to my last chapter, and I hope this one meets expectations.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

"What did you say to me?!" Lucius roared, raising a hand to strike her.

"Lucius Malfoy!" The Dark Lord rose from his throne and glared his red, slitted eyes at the man, who stopped his hand before it could strike Ginny's face. "She is valuable, you fool! Do not lay a hand on her!" Lucius bowed low to Voldemort and backed away from Ginny with a cold glare.

The Dark Lord descended the steps once more until he stood before Ginny. "Where is the Horcrux, little girl? Tell me, or I will kill your friend."

Ginny glared at him, her thoughts whirling. "It's at Number 12 Grimmauld Place. That's where the Order-"

"You lie!" hissed the Dark Lord, whipping out his wand and pointing it between her eyes. "My Death Eaters destroyed that place a year ago!"

"Then I don't know where it is!" Ginny yelled back, her face defiant, trying to sum up the courage her House was famed for. Instead, all she felt was fear, fear threatening to overwhelm her, making her heart race, her head woozy, her stomach sick.

The Dark Lord smiled, his disfigured, lip-less mouth turning up. "We'll just have to see about that." He grabbed her by the head and suddenly it felt as if he was reaching his hand into her brain, into her mind, rummaging around with his icy hand. The feeling was much stronger than it had been before, for it was almost as if she could physically feel him searching through her memories and thoughts for what he wanted, his power like an icy vice making her head numb. Unwanted memories flashed before her of her home being invaded, her parents murdered, her mother raped. The Death Eaters heard her cry out, they were pulling up the floorboards, leering at her. The memory changed. She was completing the ceremony with Dumbledore, feeling as her voice was literally pulled right out of her throat. Ginny changed the course of her thoughts as quickly as she could, so as to not let him see. But she had no control where they went. Ginny was in the Chamber now with Tom, he was stroking her face, trying to calm the little girl. A few months later she looked at herself in the mirror and screamed when she saw his face over her shoulder. More memories, flashing faster and faster, and there he was, in all of them, her personal ghost haunting her, following her everywhere, seen only by her.

Ginny fell back with a scream as Voldemort let go of her, his presence leaving slowly, thawing her mind and returning her thoughts to normal. He stared at her for a long time before speaking. "There is no Horcrux."

She laughed giddily, insanely, and shook her head, tears slipping out of her eyes. "No. I am the Horcrux now." Gasps resounded throughout the room. "When the diary was destroyed, Tom's soul was already a part of mine. He used me as his new vessel. He has been with me ever since."

"And do you know how to free him?" Ginny shivered, acutely aware that she was having a conversation with the most horrendous Dark Lord in all of history, and he wasn't trying to kill her. Yet.

"Of course." She closed her eyes, leaning her head against the basin. Tom was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he had faded out of sight because of weakness, or perhaps he did not want Voldemort to invade her thoughts and hear him speaking.

"Tell me!" Voldemort grabbed her by the chin, glaring at her, his wand again at her throat.

She stared him in his glowing red eyes. "No."

The stinging pain of a slap throbbed on her cheek while the sound reverberated throughout the room. "Tell me or I'll get the answer from your mind, and I know you don't find that pleasant."

Ginny shuddered at the thought of him invading her mind once more. "Magic. Old magic. I have to want to release him." She shook her head. "You can torture me all you like…but I am the only one who can free him. And I won't."

"You will! With motivation!" He turned to Alex, pointing his wand at her. "Crucio!"

"No!" Ginny closed her eyes and covered her ears, trying to block out the sound of her friend's screaming. Shuddering sobs left her as she was forced to open her eyes, to watch the woman writhing and twisting on the ground in pain. Voldemort held her under the spell for a long time before finally letting her go, and she continued to twitch from the aftereffects.

Ginny crawled towards her friend weakly and lifted her head off of the ground. It was bleeding from the impact of the spell smacking it against the marble. Alex tried to smile up at her, but it was weak and frail. "G…Ginny," she whispered, her voice hoarse from screaming. She lifted a hand to Ginny's face. "I…I love you. I always have." And then suddenly her hand fell away and her eyes rolled back into her head.

No. No, this couldn't be happening. It wasn't real. Ginny had seen so many people die, so many, she knew what death looked like, but it just couldn't be. Alex was strong, stronger than Ginny, stronger than anybody she had ever known. Suddenly Alex's face was wet. Was she crying? No. It was Ginny. She was weeping. But why? Her friend was fine. Her friend wasn't dead. She wasn't dead!

"Alex?!" Her voice sounded foreign to her ears. The voice of somebody who had just lost a loved one. "Alex?!" No. But Alex was fine. She wasn't dead. She couldn't be. Ginny shook her, but her eyes just rolled around. She leaned her head over, trying to listen for breath, but there was none. "Alex!"

Ginny cradled her friend in her arms, tears flooding down her face like a waterfall. Why?! Why damnit?! She would have said! She would have spoken! But he didn't have to kill her! If Ginny had known he would have killed her, she would have released Tom! She would have told them everything they wanted!

Ginny's fingertips rested on the eyelids and she pulled them shut. So beautiful. Alex was so beautiful. She always had been. And she was still warm. If her heart had been beating, Ginny would have thought she was still alive. But nobody was strong enough to live through one of Voldemort's curses, at least not for that long. But Alex was invincible. She was infallible. Wasn't she? "I love you. I love you, Alex."

Sobs racked her body so hard that her chest started to hurt. She couldn't breathe because of the tears running into her mouth, making her throat sticky. Ginny felt she would be sick, but she couldn't defile Alex's precious, beautiful body that way. She leaned over, her lips pressing against her friend's warm ones. Why she did it she didn't know, but it just felt the right thing to do. "I'm so sorry. Please…please forgive me," she whispered. Ginny unclasped the cloak and laid it over her friends body, carefully covering her head.

And then suddenly she was up, but not of her own accord. Her legs were unable to move, her body frozen in shock. Voldemort was before her and Lucius, that must have been it, was holding her up by her hair. "Now tell me!"

Ginny looked into his eyes, unafraid. She laughed manically and shook her head with a little smile. "You have nothing left to threaten me with. I don't care about my life."

"Don't I? Lucius! Where is your traitorous son?!"

"Right here, My Lord. Draco!" Ginny looked to her left, looked and saw Draco struggling against two Death Eaters, his face bruised and bloody, his clothes torn. He fought strongly but they were stronger as they threw him to his knees before Voldemort. "I am sure you would tell us if we threatened to do the same to your boyfriend, here."

"Draco?" Ginny stared in horror. What had they done to him? One of his eyes was so bruised it was closed shut. His usually pristine, beautiful hair was sticky with blood. His arm looked broken; she could see the white bone sticking out of the bloody flesh, making her wince. He was a mess with an assortment of bruises all along his body. And those were just his physical injuries. There was no telling his magical ones. "Lucius…your own…son."

"He is no son of mine!" screamed the man behind her, holding her up. He shook her for good measure. "He is a traitor! He helped my slave to escape, and then tried to escape with you! He has fallen in love with the enemy, and so he will be rightly punished until his last breath! Now tell the Dark Lord what he wants to know, or that will be sooner than I had planned!"

"No! No, don't hurt him!" Ginny screamed and Voldemort lifted his wand and pointed it at Draco. "I'll tell you. I'll free him. I'll free Tom. Just please, don't hurt Draco!" She took a shuddering breath, the next words spilling out of her mouth in a rush. "I have to perform a ceremony. Have to say the incantation. Have to release him from my soul. Then he will be free." Ginny closed her eyes. _Please forgive me, Alex. Please forgive me._

"Then do it!" hissed the Dark Lord impatiently.

"I will…but you must meet my…and his…conditions." Ginny lifted her chin defiantly. She had the control now. The ball was in her court.

"And what, precisely, are those?" He looked irate, but she didn't care.

"_Yes, what are those, Ginevra?" _Tom's voice was back, though she couldn't see him. _"Finally starting to act like a true Slytherin, are you? I'm proud."_

_You must agree to this as well, or you shall never be free, no matter what they do to Draco and I. _"You must promise not to kill Draco or me. That is all."

"And why, pray tell, should I agree to this?" Lord Voldemort narrowed his already slitted eyes at her.

"Because…because Tom wants me…as his…his…" Ginny closed her eyes, trying to force the word out. "Mistress. And because as his mistress, I demand that Draco not be killed."

"_How very interesting." _Ginny could practically hear Tom sneering.

_Do you agree? _

"_I do. I never intended to kill you anyway, my dear. And I suppose if the boy must live, then I can still torture him." _

_Just don't kill him. _

"_As you wish. You are too pure of heart, Ginevra."_

She repeated her question to Voldemort, who grudgingly agreed, though whether he would keep his word was unknown. "Let her go, Lucius."

Ginny dropped to the floor like a lead weight and lay there for a moment, too tired to get up. Finally she rose, with the help of the basin, and glanced at Alex's dead body, then Draco's broken one. "I'm sorry," she whispered to no one in particular. Ginny stepped into the center of the room and the crowd of Death Eaters backed away, still gossiping. She lifted her head to the ceiling, staring up at the chandelier, remembering how she had danced under it with Alex.

"What is taking so long?!" hissed Lucius in annoyance.

"Silence!" Voldemort commanded, turning his attention back to Ginny. She spread her arms wide and began to chant as her eyelids fluttered closed. The language was foreign, even to her, but she knew the meanings of these words in this archaic language, and that gave them power. Ginny fed them all of her power, every ounce of it, letting it consume her magic. A welcoming warmth spread over her body and a light seemed to fill the room and, opening her eyes, Ginny realized it was coming from her. Not only that, she realized she was levitating off the ground by a few feet. For a frightened moment she began to drop but she could hear Dumbledore's voice in her mind. "You must focus, Ginny. Old magic doesn't use spells or potions or scrolls. It uses the magic deep within your heart, within your soul. It is about willpower. And focus. Focus is key."

Focus. She repeated the word in her mind as she repeated the chant out loud, the words leaving her lips without any thought. Her mouth moved of its own accord and her voice grew stronger, finally starting to lose that hoarse edge that came from lack of use. The words echoed around her, forming into archaic letters and symbols as they left her mouth, glowing with a light of their own, circling and spinning around her. All she could hear was the sound of her voice multiplied in her ears, echoing through the hall, all she could see were the symbols dancing around her, the chandelier lowering towards her. All she could feel was her body lifting, getting warmer, until it was almost unbearably hot, her dress billowing behind her, even though there was no wind to make it so. All she could smell was fire burning in her, for that was her magic, that was her core, her soul. Fire consumed her, became her, fed her. Her hair caught on fire, no, it was fire, burning on the top of her head. All she could taste were those hot letters on her tongue, the taste of her voice echoing in the hollow cavity of her mouth.

And then suddenly the fire became unbearably hot. She screamed in pain, unable to chant, but the words, the symbols and letters, continued to twirl like a tornado, faster and faster, blending into one spinning blaze of fire. Ginny screamed and screamed and screamed. It felt as though her soul were being ripped in two, a part of her trying to claw its way out of her chest. Her monster was finally loose, the monster that had threatened to claw its way up for all those years, was finally being set free from its cage of ribs. The agony was horrendous and she watched in a horrified trance as Tom's soul clawed its way out of her chest, inky darkness, for that was his magic, his essence, leaving her fiery soul. He continued to claw, the light growing brighter, even as he grew darker, and she screamed again and arched her back as she was ripped apart from the inside and suddenly he was gone and she was falling to floor and the last thing she saw was Tom, standing in all his naked glory, drifting to the ground beside her, flesh and bone. Alive. Tom Riddle was alive.

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Tom blinked in the sudden light, wincing at how overwhelmed his senses were. As a ghost, the five senses were greatly muffled. Seeing was like looking through a dirty window. Hearing was as if listening underwater. Taste and smell were practically nonexistent. And touch, the only touch he had received in the past five years of being trapped in Ginevra's body was her touch alone, and before that he was in a diary, with no one and nothing to awaken and refresh his senses. And now, abruptly, all of his senses were reawakened with no warning. The change was immediate, there was nothing gradual about it, and so it was also intensely painful. He supposed having what little piece of soul belonged to you ripped from its only source of power for the past five years could do that to a man.

But he stood quickly, feeling the eyes on him, the voices around him. Tom stared at his hands, at his arms, at his entire body. It was exactly the same as he had remembered it, nude, naturally, for souls had no need for clothing, and still young and powerful. Power. He could feel it coursing through his veins, running through his body. His dark magic finally had its own shell-he no longer had to share a body with Ginevra, overwhelmed by her fiery core. No, now he had a body and a means to channel his magic, and it was beautiful, absolutely beautiful. Tom lifted his arms above his head and screamed as loudly as he could, so loud it made his voice hurt and many people wince, and he reveled I the way his chest vibrated, he way he affected the air, the way people could see and hear him, the way his power reverberated off of the ceiling and walls, making the chandelier shake.

He was mad with the power coursing through his veins. He had spent years in Ginevra's body, studying old magic. At first it had been an attempt to escape from Ginevra, but then it had become something more. With old magic, frivolities such as wands and bodies were unnecessary. The magic came from within. And he had practiced and stored it up for five years, learning how to manipulate the mind, dreams, and emotions of another human being. Manipulating inanimate objects such as a chandelier now were child's play.

He grinned triumphantly around him before his eyes landed on Voldemort. The man disgusted him with his unnaturally pale skin, deformed features, red slits for eyes, lip-less mouth, and practically nonexistent nose. Was that honestly what Tom would become one day? Not if he could help it. He walked towards the man, the action coming easy to him, and smirked, raising his hand up.

Tom grinned manically as Voldemort, fear and wonder written on his face, an expression that was surely new to him, rose up out of his throne with Tom's hand. "You are pathetic. I truly must apologize, Your Majesty, but it appears I will be taking the throne as the Dark Lord now." And with that Tom crushed the man's feeble throat in a vice like grip, despite the fact he was not even touching him. Tom threw him to the floor with a simple sweep of his hand.

The Death Eaters were in a shocked silence, and so Tom ignored them as he glanced around for Ginevra. She was unconscious on the floor, her soaking wet crimson hair fanned out around her. His eyes trailed down the body he knew so well, observing the way her wet dress stuck to her breasts and hips and legs. Tom ignored the cries of surprise from the women in the crowd as they stared at his nakedness which became very excited as he stepped towards Ginevra, rising her up as he did the Dark Lord with just the lift of his hand. She floated towards him until she lay in the air before him, her dress and arms and hair hanging down below her limp body. Tom frowned at the dress. It was wholly inappropriate for his future queen and mistress. He ran his hands along her body, watching as the wet white cotton changed to a dry, silky material. When he was done she wore a deep green dress that trailed past her ankles. Her voluptuous chest was even more eye-catching with the tight green corset laced up the back wrapped around it. Tom smiled as her eyelids fluttered but didn't quite open. "You're red hair goes beautifully with green, Ginevra. You would have made a fine Slytherin" He carried her to his throne and sat her in it, her head rolling to one side, before he turned to his new followers and army.

"Well?! Aren't any of you going to offer the new Dark Lord a robe to wear?!" His question was met with silence. "Come now, why does nobody speak? I am your new Lord Voldemort, and I demand that you bring me clothes!"

One of the Death Eaters removed her mask and kneeled beside Voldemort's dead body, her eyes wide. "You-you killed him. You killed him! My Lord!" Bellatrix Lestrange held the corpse to her chest, weeping, before she looked up, her eyes flashing in rage. "I will kill you now!" She whipped out her wand, running at Tom, the Killing Curse leaving her lips, but a simple flick of his wrist sent her flying into the far wall, where her neck snapped against the hard marble.

"Now, let that foolish woman's behavior be a lesson to you. I have dethroned Voldemort, but I _am_ Voldemort. I am his former self, and I am much smarter, stronger, younger, and more powerful than that fool ever was. And if anyone, _anyone_, has an objection to that, step forward now!" Again he was greeted with silence. He lifted his chin as his eyes roamed over the crowd. "That's what I thought. Now bring me some clothes!"

Lucius was before him in an instant, taking off his robe and presenting it to Tom with a deep bow. Tom snatched it from him, lifting an eyebrow at the coarse, plain material. With a sigh it changed into a rich, deep green velvet robe, and he threw it around his shoulders, clasping it. "Very well. That will have to do. Now…aren't you all going to bow to your new master?!"

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Ginny's eyes opened slowly as she tried to ignore the spinning in her head and the nausea in her stomach. The room spun as she had the distinct impression of sitting up in a comfortable chair. Had someone moved her? How long ago had she passed out? But it didn't feel as if a long amount of time had passed, yet, she observed subconciously, her clothing had been changed. And she realized, as she sat up and stared in wonder, that not much time had passed. Not much indeed. But that a lot had happened.

Before her Tom stood in nothing but an open green robe, looking regal as a king. All around him Death Eaters took off their masks and hoods and kneeled and bowed their heads. As she sat up more, Ginny's eyes took in a dead Voldemort lying on the floor, his pale throat covered in blood, his windpipe crushed, an equally bloody Bellatrix Lestrange on the far wall, and Draco, unmoving, his eyes never straying from Ginny, despite all that went on around him. Ginny caught his eyes with hers and his hard, angry look suddenly softened when he saw she was conscious and unharmed.

"Ahh, I see you are awake, Ginevra." Ginny looked up at her name to find Tom gazing at her with a smirk on his face. She nodded silently, unable to speak. She stared as her worst fear walked and talked and breathed and ruled. He stepped towards her and she sank back, but there was nowhere to go as she suddenly realized she was in Voldemort's throne, now Tom's. He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her up, as if showing her off to the Death Eaters. "May I present to you all…Ginevra, my future Dark Queen. You will show her the same respect you show me, for soon she shall rule by my side."

Ginny's heart stopped and she stared in panic at the Death Eaters bowing low to her as well. She shook her head and tried to step away from Tom, but he was incredibly strong, especially for having just revived his body. "Now now, Ginevra, do not be shy. Your people want to hear from you." He came behind her, an arm on her shoulder, stroking it with what might have been considered romantic or calming caresses, but they only made her shiver in fear. "Why don't you sing for them, love?"

Ginny looked away from him, disgust written on her face. He _was_ showing her off. This was all a game to him, some sort of sick, twisted fun. Well, she wasn't going to play. "No," Ginny answered bluntly.

"Tsk, tsk, Ginevra. You would not want me to hurt your love, would you?" His eyes snapped over to Draco and he smiled cruelly.

"No! You promised not to-"

"I promised not to kill him. I said nothing about torturing." He lifted his hand to Draco and Ginny could feel his dark magic flowing off of him in waves, striking the boy on the floor. Draco began to scream in agony and writhe on the cold marble, and she knew the pain, from his reaction, was worse than any Cruciatus.

"Stop!" she screamed, picking up her skirts and running towards him. Ginny kneeled down before Draco, taking his face in her hands, thankful when she no longer felt the powerful magic bearing down on him. "Just don't hurt him!"

"Then do as I command you, Ginevra!" Ginny winced at Tom's harsh voice and looked into Draco's eyes, into those mercury orbs she had come to know and love. They looked back at her in defiant pain.

"Draco…"

"Don't do it Ginny," he whispered hoarsely, coughing up blood. Ginny stoked his face in her hands and he closed his eyes, sighing contently. "You can't let him control you."

"It's just…it's just singing," she whispered, though they both knew that wasn't true.

Draco shook his head, wincing in pain. "No. It's about control, Ginny. It's about power. You can't give in to him. Right now that's all it is, but you heard him. He'll make you marry him. He'll…he'll ra-" He saw Ginny shudder at the word that almost left his lips so he stopped short. "He'll hurt you Ginny. He'll make you do things you don't want to."

She shook her head and leaned down, kissing him on the forehead. "Draco…I…I…" She what? She wasn't sure. Ginny didn't know how to voice what was going on right now, what was happening to her. She didn't know how to explain these emotions, these feelings for him. He was her friend, she wanted to protect him, but it was so much more than that. Instead she stood and turned to Tom, her head bowed low in defeat. "I will do whatever you wish of me, Tom."

"Master, Ginevra. I am your master now, and you will call me Master." Ginny's head whipped up and she glared angrily at his cold, arrogant smirk.

"Master," she gritted out between her teeth. He beckoned her forward and she followed, walking up the steps to his throne where he lounged out, unashamed of his open robes revealing his nudity.

"Now sing for us, Ginevra. Sing for me." Tom caught her gaze and music began to play on the piano. _"Interesting choice, love." _She did not bother to hide her surprise. How could he still hear her thoughts, still speak in her mind? Ginny had never heard of Legilimency like this before. "_Ginevra, just because I have my own body now, does not mean our connection has severed. Our souls were intertwined for so long. I believe they will be forever. Now sing!"  
_

Ginny turned towards the crowd of Death Eaters, closing her eyes and humming along with the music. Could she even sing, after just now getting her voice back? It was no longer a question of her thoughts or feelings. Tom owned her now, he was her master, dangling the threat of Draco's pain over her head, and she knew she could not resist him when he threatened her so. But she was not sure if her weak throat could hold out throughout an entire song. But voicing her worries to Tom would make no difference, so instead she closed her eyes and set her voice free.

I'm so tired of being here  
Suppressed by all my childish fears  
And if you have to leave  
I wish that you would just leave  
'Cause your presence still lingers here  
And it won't leave me alone

Ginny's eyes strayed to her friend's lifeless, unmoving body on the ground. The truth of it had yet to sink in. How could she die so simply, so easily, without a fight? Alex was the type of woman who would only go down kicking and screaming, though in a sick way that was exactly what happened. Yet, she was murdered by a simple curse, the deed taking no more than five minutes. Five minutes for her body to give out and the life to leave her. Just five minutes, the blink of an eye, and she was gone. How? _How?!_

These wounds won't seem to heal  
This pain is just too real  
There's just too much that time cannot erase

When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears  
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears  
And I held your hand through all of these years  
But you still have  
All of me

Ginny glanced out of the corner of her eye to Tom as he stood and began to circle around her. She steadied her voice and continued singing, trying to ignore the stinging of tears forming in her eyes. Her voice became suddenly bitter and harsh as she glared at him, though the cold, hateful words only made him smirk in admiration and amusement.

You used to captivate me  
By your resonating light  
Now I'm bound by the life you left behind  
Your face it haunts  
My once pleasant dreams  
Your voice it chased away  
All the sanity in me

These wounds won't seem to heal  
This pain is just too real  
There's just too much that time cannot erase

When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears  
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears  
And I held your hand through all of these years  
But you still have  
All of me

Her voice ascended and she closed her eyes, trying to ignore the way Tom's hands roamed along her body as if he owned her, trying to ignore the shame burning in her as Death Eaters watched the performance with stunned faces, trying to ignore Draco's ussually cold eyes glaring angrily, burning holes in Tom's soul. She let her love and hate for Tom consume and feed the music.

I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone  
But though you're still with me  
I've been alone all along

Ginny's chest heaved as she fought to catch her breath, eyes roaming the crowd. Her dark brown eyes locked with Draco's mercury ones, and she found herself unable to look away. He looked so battered, so hopeless and defeated, but still the rage burned in his heart. How could he have the strength to continue hating, to continue fighting, after all that had happened? Ginny herself was a jumbled mess of confusing emotions, some of them hate, some of them pain, some of them...love? She loved Draco just as much as she loved Alex, yet her love for him was different.

The impact of the truth hit her like a bludger to the stomach, and she heard Tom's hiss of anger and felt his painfully tight grip on her shoulders before she had even completed the thought. Ginny didn't just love Draco, she was_ in love_ with him.

When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears  
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears  
And I held your hand through all of these years  
But you still have  
All of me

Ginny's voice died and there was a stunned silence left in her wake. Suddenly, quiet, surprised clapping filled the room, most likely courtesy of Tom's glare threatening death to those who did not clap politely. She reveled in her small victory. They would never know she had sung them a Muggle song.


	15. The Devil's Bride

A/N: Well, here it is. This chapter was harder to write because I wanted to write the scenes I had planned for later on that have been whirling in my head, but I discovered that I am a chronological writer and must write everything in the order it's going to happen. So please bare with me for the slow updates and enjoy this new chapter. The song used is "Breath No More" by Evanescence, and the lyrics are from the website sing365. Now that my disclaimer it out of the way, please enjoy and review!

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Ginny sat forlornly on the huge silver and green bed, staring at the room around her. Shortly after her song Tom had irritably told Lucius to take her to the finest room and leave her there to wait for him, threatening, before she was toted away, that not a single Death Eater should lay their hands on her for fear of a punishment far worse that Voldemort's or Bellatrix Lestrange's. Lucius had tossed her in there with a scowl, his eyes roaming over her body before he promptly shut and locked the door. Whether he was still out there guarding it or he had gone back to join the Death Eaters was unknown to her as she stared around the foreign room, fear growing in her chest.

Now that she was alone and not in immediate danger, she had time to think, and thinking was the worst. Ginny could dwell over all that had happened in the past few hours. Their almost escape, Alex's death, the fact that she brought the most evil Dark Lord back to life, the knowledge that Draco was suffering because of her, the impact of the sudden truth of her love for Draco. It was all so much to take in, and the past few hours seemed like a horrible nightmare turned reality. The fact that she had just died and been brought back to life should have been more frightening than it was, but that seemed trivial compared to everything else that has just happened.

She curled into a ball, bringing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them protectively. Ginny sat with her chin on her knees, staring at the dark green walls. She should have been crying or screaming or doing something, yet she felt oddly empty. Ginny was tired, emotionally and physically drained from all that had occurred, and all she wanted was to curl up against Draco's chest and fall fast asleep. The thought of where he might be now, in a dungeon cell beaten within an inch of his life, all because of her, made her heart ache more painfully than even her throat did.

It was all her fault. Everything. Alex, the beautiful woman that had saved her life countless times, that had brought her back from the dead, that had shown unconditional love and patience to the complete stranger thrown into her life, was dead, and it was Ginny's fault. And now Draco was suffering in a cell somewhere being beaten by his father all because he had helped her and Alex, all because of Ginny's sudden realization of her love for him. And not only that, the horrible guilt of knowing that she had brought Tom back, despite five years of effort to keep him from ever being alive again, weighed heavily on her shoulders and heart. How many people would die now because of her decision, because of her mistake? How many ghosts, how many tormented souls, would haunt her for the rest of her life? How could she ever be forgiven? How could Ginny ever redeem herself? True, she didn't believe in Heaven or Hell, but that didn't change the fact that she had committed the most horrible sin possible. She should have died before bringing him back into the world. She should have let her friends die before unleashing him upon the wizarding world. That was the one task Dumbledore had given her, the one thing she could do to help the Order and their cause, and she had failed.

And now her horrible decision, the fate of the wizarding world, weighed so heavily on her she felt as if she would literally be crushed. And Tom wanted her to embrace it, wanted to parade her around as his wife. She shook with the thought of it. What would he do to her? Did she even really have to ask? Ginny knew Tom. She knew he loved her, and she knew, in a sick, twisted, perverted way, that she loved him back, despite how much she loathed him. Ginny knew he felt the same. His weakness, his love for her, made him hate her as well, and he wanted to make her suffer for making him feel this way. And what better way than to force them together, even now that they were free of each other?

Ginny knew Tom would hurt her. He would rape her, she had no doubt. He would beat her in fits of rage. He would caress her in strange episodes of love. He wanted to control her, and she would let him, for how could she resist him when he had Draco in his grip? The thought of his cold hands on her body, defiling her, just as he had defiled her soul for the past five years, filled her with a dread that she trembled with the force of it.

As if he could hear her thoughts, and she knew he could, the door opened and Tom Riddle stood before her, a smirk on his face, though his eyes were darkly livid. Ginny could see the barely contained anger under a mask of calm sophistication. He wanted to torment her slowly, but she could observe from the look in his eyes that he also wanted to break her in two with his bare hands. He stepped into the room, his tall, built form swaggering, slamming the door shut and locking it with a wave of his hand. Ginny's back stiffened as he slunk towards her slowly, looking her up and down, before he silently came to stand before her, leering down at her. She kept her head up and stared at a spot on the wall, trying to keep her face emotionless.

"Now, now, Ginevra, do not treat me so." Ginny felt more than saw his hand grab her chin and force her face upward. She met his eyes and shivered as they flashed red and black. "Why do you look so afraid?!" He laughed mirthlessly at her expense and she breathed in a shaky breath.

"Tom…you are angry…" Ginny whispered, swallowing hard. Her mouth and throat suddenly felt dry and her eyes suddenly felt wet. She noticed she was trembling and tried to calm herself, but it was useless.

He leaned closer, his lips inches away from hers. "And why shouldn't I be? After all, my future wife is.in.love.with.a._boy_!" he hissed, enunciating each word, eyes suddenly changing to crimson.

She gasped and tried to back away but he pulled her closer, his arm suddenly on her back, holding her so tightly it began to hurt. "I confess my love to you! I live for your every need! I have been your slave for the past five years, Ginevra! And then, when I am finally alive and in my own body, when I am powerful, ruling an army of Death Eaters, all of my desires coming true, I find out the one woman I want, out of countless whores who would willingly throw themselves at my feet, is in love with a foolish little boy!"

"He is older than you, Tom," she whispered, and instantly regretted it when his mouth twisted up in rage.

Tom grabbed her hair and yanked on it hard. "Older than I, Ginevra?! You have no idea how _old_ I am! I have lived for forty years in a diary, and another five in your body! I am older than Voldemort was, older and wiser and stronger! I am older than even Dumbledore was when he met his end. I am _older _than time itself, Ginevra! Don't you _dare_ say that you or that boy toy of yours is _older_ than I!"

Ginny was truly trembling in fright now as he yelled at her, making her wince. Tears slipped down her face and she refused to meet his eyes for fear of invoking his anger further. "Why are you doing this to me, Tom?" she sobbed hopelessly.

He screamed in fury, his hand clenching so tight to her jaw she could feel it bruising, his magic radiating off of him in dark waves, crashing against her with so much force she would have been knocked over had he not been holding her in place. "I offered my heart, my soul, to you! I gave you everything you ever wanted! I am the richest, most powerful man alive! And what do I get in return?! You refuse me! You embarrass me!"

Tom pulled her close again, his lips touching hers, their chests pressed tightly together. "We could have been so happy together if you had just behaved. But now it seems I will have to force and threaten you to be my wife, to love me. You bitch!"

Ginny found herself lying on the bed sideways, the side of her face not pressed against the mattress throbbing in rhythm with her heartbeat. Tom stood over her, his fist clenched, and she realized that he had hit her. Ginny was surprised by how much it hurt, not just physically, but emotionally as well. Tom had never hit her, had never once raised a hand to hurt her. He preferred to manipulate minds and break spirits, not bodies, and he had been especially careful not to hurt her physically, not once, for fear of losing her. Ginny raised a hand to her face as she slowly sat up on the bed, tears welling in her eyes.

Tom was breathing raggedly, trying to control the rage boiling in him, eyes changing between bright red and dark crimson. His eyes snapped up to hers and for a few minutes they stared at each other in silence before he turned on his heel and strode to the door. He stopped in the open doorway, hand on the handle, though he did not turn around. His voice was oddly calm, though underlined with threat. "You will put that boy out of your mind. You _will_ love me, Ginevra, and you _will_ be my wife."

Ginny stared at his back, her heart abruptly turning as cold and dark as his. She closed her eyes in defeat and when they opened again they were empty of all emotions. "Then I will be the devil's wife," she whispered quietly and calmly.

"They are one in the same, Ginevra." With that he left her, closing and locking the door to her lavish cage. A single tear slipped down her cheek, stained pink from her bloody, bruised face.

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Tom sat in the Manor's huge library, attempting to read a book on magical theory, but he could think only of Ginevra. How dare she betray him so?! He had offered her everything: power, love, respect, money, and she had silently refused it all when her eyes landed on that boy. Tom had spilled his soul to her.

He had never loved someone before, and the thought frightened and annoyed him. Only the weak fell in love. Only the weak would give their lives for another person. Only the weak would allow their hearts to be broken. Tom was not weak. And there was no way in Hell she was going to break his heart and get away with it.

There was a snapping noise and Tom looked over to see what had once been the chair beside him in a heap of splintered wood. He sighed in exasperation. He really needed to control his temper. His magic was unbound, flowing free around him. True, with some effort he could harness it, but when his emotions took over it seemed the world around him was affected.

Tom ran his hand through his black hair and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to drive out his thoughts of Ginevra. Tom had been forced to live as a captive in her mind for so long they had become intertwined. He knew her, inside and out, just as he knew himself. He knew her possibly better than she did.

She was gorgeous and he loved her, but that was not why he wanted her to be his wife and queen. Tom held a strong vendetta against the girl. He hated to be weak and powerless, and for the past five years, that was what he had been, a mere phantom subject to the body and whims and thoughts of a teenage girl! It annoyed and disgusted him to no end, and now he wanted to make her suffer just as she had made him. He wanted her to be the captive now with no escape, to see only a dim, horrid life at his side.

And besides, how could he possibly let her leave him, after so long? She had become his obsession, his very core. She was his other half, if only she would realize it. They truly complimented each other, and if she would just embrace the darkness in her, she could be the perfect Dark Queen and ruler. They could make history. They could be the most powerful wizards in the world.

But she did not want that, he knew, though he did not understand. She was much too pure and self-righteous to be his lover, and besides, she would rather be with that boy, that stupid traitorous child, Draco Malfoy. The thought disgusted him as he tuned into her emotions. She wanted to just live a peaceful, quiet life with Malfoy. He could hear her thoughts now. All Ginevra desired was to go to sleep curled in _his_ arms. Tom gritted his teeth in anger. The nerve of that girl!

But suddenly her emotions changed and he closed his eyes curiously, trying to see what she did. It was always confusing and cloudy when trying to understand Ginevra's thoughts. She was a tempestuous ocean of emotions and feelings all churning together in one. Brief images flashed in his mind as he heard her voice singing quietly to herself a melancholy song. He almost chuckled, for she was singing another ridiculous, whiny Muggle song, however the flash of a blade, a sharp sting of pain, and images of blood quickly silenced his mirth. What was she doing now?!

His eyes snapped open as realization dawned on him. She was attempting suicide…again. Tom stood swiftly and glanced around angrily at the empty library. A snap of his fingers brought a mudblood slave to his side who bowed low and trembled in fear. He merely sneered at it. "Go fetch Blaise Zabini, the mediwitch, and tell him to go to Ginevra's rooms and check on her, quickly! She is hurt! Tell him when he is done to report to me about her…condition." The servant nodded and bowed low before he sent her off with another snap of his finger.

Let Ginevra attempt suicide; she would quickly learn there was no way to escape Tom.

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After Tom left, Ginny crawled to the bathroom, intending to take a bath. She found herself leaning over the toilet as the huge marble bathtub filled, losing what little substance was left in her stomach, most of it water from her drowning experience. She flushed the porcelain toilet and wiped her mouth, using the edge of the sink to pull herself up. Ginny turned on the sink's tap on hot, so hot it was steaming, though she couldn't feel it's burn. The water ran red with the blood on her hands and face and hair, staining the dark stone red, and she forced herself to look up, up, into the mirror above.

Almost immediately Ginny turned away, not wanting to see her reflection. How long had it been since she'd looked at herself in a mirror? She had caught small glimpses of herself in passing: rusted mirrors, rippling water, windows, but not once in over a year had she looked at herself directly in a mirror. Was she ready to? She wasn't sure.

Ginny forced her eyes up and the sight of her own reflection pained her. Long, blood-red hair fell down past her shoulders, covering some of her exposed cleavage. Her skin was unnaturally pale, as if she hadn't seen the sunlight in months. Ghosts of freckles, a family heirloom, stood out against the creamy pale skin. Her eyes were dark and shadowed and her lips were chapped. There was a bruise forming on her cheek from where Tom had hit her, but that didn't even begin to compare to the scars and bruises that marred her body.

She gasped, lifting a hand to her mouth in horror as she stared at her familiar yet foreign reflection, images of a redheaded family flashing through her mind. What would they think if they saw her now? What would her parents, her brothers, her friends, think if they knew that all of their sacrifices had been in vain? If they knew that she had brought the most evil Dark Lord into the world and now she was his sex slave? If they knew she had done it willingly for the love of a boy they hated?

Shame welling up in her, Ginny screamed, her voice breaking from the sound, and the glass shattered. At first she thought it was the force of her voice but quickly realized she had thrown her hand into the mirror. Blood mixed with the tiny shards and huge chunks of glass, and Ginny fell to the floor, unable to stand any longer. Her reflection, cut, distorted, stained red with blood, stared back at her a million times, mocking her. The world swam from the tears in her eyes, though she could feel no pain in her hand.

I've been looking in a mirror for so long

That I've come to believe my soul's on the other side.

All the little pieces falling, shatter

Shards of me too sharp to put back together;

Too small to matter,

But big enough to cut me into so many little pieces

If I try to touch her

She reached towards a long, sharp piece of glass in a daze, picking it up and turning it over in her hand. Her eyes flashed in the reflection, dark and empty, like a void where all light vanished. Ginny placed it to her skin, taking a deep, shaky breath, and drew it down. She bit her lip, crying out in pain as she felt the cold, sharp blade drag across her sensitive skin. Ginny could feel the pale skin ripping apart in its wake like a cloth stretched too tight, and blood welling up, released from its cage to pour down her arm in a river.

And I bleed,

I bleed

And I breathe,

I breathe no more.

Liquid rubies dripped down her arms, onto her dress, across her breasts. The world became fuzzy and started to spin and Ginny realized she was standing, the glass so tight in her hand it sliced through the skin of her palm. She stared at it, at her warped expression, and reached a hand up to her face, streaking it with crimson. Ginny felt light-headed as she stumbled back, her high heels tripping over glass, and began to fall, the shard flying away from her to hit the wall and shatter. Diamonds danced in the air around her as she fell, landing in a tub of hot water.

Take a breath and I try to draw from my spirit's well.

Yet again you refuse to drink like a stubborn child.

Lie to me, convince me that I've been sick forever

And all of this will make sense when I get better.

She opened her eyes, staring up at the room through the haze of water. Ginny swam, trying to reach the surface, but it was too far away. Was she destined to die by drowning? Did Death want her after all? The surface of the water seemed to get farther and farther, the light got dimmer, the water turned pink with her blood.

But I know the difference

Between myself and my reflection.

I just cant help to wonder,

Which of us do you love?

She found she couldn't breath and neither did she care. She had died once, ironically by drowning, and now she would again. Ginny's eyes closed as diamonds fell into her hair, making it shine. Blaise found the unconscious girl lying, barely alive, in the bottom of the tub, red water overflowing, spilling over the edge. She wore a small smile of contentment.

So I bleed,

I bleed

And I breathe,

I breathe no-

Bleed,

I bleed,

And I breathe,

I breathe

I breathe,

I breathe...no...more.

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Blaise plunged his arms into the water, yanking Ginny out and shaking her roughly. She coughed, bloody water spilling out of her mouth, and opened her eyes wearily, glancing at him with a confused, vacant look. Blaise shook his head and cleared the bathroom floor with a quick "Scourgify," before lying her down, grabbing her bleeding arm. "Damnit, Ginny, what are you doing?" he muttered as he cleaned the wound, picking out the little pieces of glass and stitching it up. Luckily the scar was not jagged or very deep, and she had only lost enough blood to pass out. He quickly fixed her hand as well before sitting her up, making her look at him.

"Ginny! Ginny!" Blaise tapped the girl's cheeks. Her eyes blinked open and closed, out of focus, before looking at him. Blaise sighed and shook his head. "What is the meaning of this? Were you trying to kill yourself again?"

Ginny's looked away, playing with the hem of her dress. "Of course."

"Why?" He was so angry he wanted to scream at her, to knock some sense into her, but that would not help. "Why?!"  
She glared at him, her chest heaving with restrained sobs. "Look at me, Blaise! Look! I am Tom's whore. _Tom Riddle's whore_! Do you think I want this?! Do you think I wanted to bring him back?! How can you ask me why? How can you find it in your heart to stop me?!" Tears ran down her face and she shook with hiccups, trying not to cry.

Blaise pursed his lips and sighed, cupping her face in his hands. "Ginny, look at me. Listen, you know I can't tell you any details, not with your telepathic connection to Voldemort…but please…hold out a little longer. _Please_."

His eyes pleaded with her, holding some deep, unknown secret. Her heart fluttered. "You're going to free me? You're going to help me escape?!" Hope flooded her face and he shook her lightly.

"Be quiet, Ginny." Blaise hissed. "You know we can't speak of such things. You know Voldemort…" he shook his head. "It's dangerous to discuss this. Just…just hold out a little longer. Just fight him a little bit more."

She nodded, lips trembling, and he helped her up, drying her off with a charm. "Can I trust to leave you alone, Ginny?" It was said jokingly but his eyes were serious. Ginny nodded slowly. "Good then. Clean yourself up and change your clothes and get some sleep. I'm sure you're very tired." When Blaise deemed her stable enough to stand on her own he walked to the door, looking back with a glance. "Oh, and Ginny? Those are doctor's orders," Blaise said with a small grin. She smiled weakly in return and he left her rooms, closing the door quietly behind her and locking it as he was ordered to do.

Blaise sighed and leaned his head against the stone door, but the clearing of a throat behind him made him jump. He spun around to find the new Lord Voldemort standing before him, his face dark and angry. Blaise kneeled quickly, fear rising up in his chest. Had he heard his and Ginny's conversation? Was he coming to kill him, Ginny's last hope of escape?

Voldemort stepped towards him, making him stand. Blaise cleared his mind and looked the man in the eyes, trying to swallow his fear. "My Lord?"

Voldemort's eyes narrowed. "I know everything, Blaise Zabini. _Everything_. Every little thought Ginny has, every conversation, every feeling. Do not think you can hide _anything_ from me." He leaned in closer, his lips to Blaise's ear, his voice threatening. "Know that I only keep you around because you are a mediwitch. Do not test my patients. You are not the only healer out there, Zabini. One of the best, one of the few, but not the only one. Do not give me a reason to doubt your loyalty to me."

Blaise swallowed hard and took a shuddery breath, but he kept his head held high. "Of course not, My Lord. My loyalties are true."

"Let's keep them that way, then." Voldemort whispered. Blaise nodded and the man whirled around in a flurry of robes and stalked away, letting go of his frightening grip of Blaise's heart. Blaise ran his hand through his hair before turning and heading in the other direction, towards the slave quarters. He needed a plan, a flawless plan, if he was going to save Ginny and Draco.


	16. Plans

A/N: Look everyone, another chapter! Woot! Now you have nothing to complain about Mr. H, cause now you have two new chapters to read. That should take you about a week with your busy schedule. (Author doesn't even know if her teacher is reading this author's note, but oh well).

To all of my reviewers, for this entire story, and to all of my reviewers for this chapter, I know there's gonna be lots ;D, thank you!!!

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Light flooded Draco's vision, making him blink away the darkness that shrouded him. He wondered, in the back of his mind, if this was what Ginny had felt like, alone in her cell for a year, madness creeping in on her. He had not been here long enough to go insane, but he did find he had to do things to distract himself from the pain. For instance, he had sung to himself for a long time, songs that all made him think of Ginny. Where was she now? What was happening to her? Did that bastard have his filthy hands on her? Did his father? Did other Death Eaters? She seemed to be all he could think of.

He had been completely shocked when his father had caught them attempting to run away. At first, he thought he would be able to talk his way out of the situation and all would be fine, but Draco's ignorance astounded him. How could he not have seen this coming? How could he not have realized that they would be caught, that that slimy bastard that traveled with Alex for months would spill it all in a pathetic attempt to save his own skin?

Alex. Poor Alex. Draco's heart ached. He hadn't been incredibly close to the girl, not nearly as close as Ginny had been, but they were friends. And he had watched as she died, as Ginny held her dead body in her arms. He had seen Ginny's broken face, her lost, confused expression. He was confused himself. It had happened just hours ago, yet it seemed a lifetime ago now, with all that had happened to Ginny.

Ginny. Draco's blood boiled. His father had killed her! Killed her! And all for what, some half-assed hunch that may or may not have made the Dark Lord stronger? Rage filled Draco as he thought back to that moment. His heart had literally broken in his chest as he watched her die before his eyes, powerless to do anything. And his father had held her under that water, drowning her until her breath stopped. Draco had always hated his father, but the loathing he felt for him now was so intense it made it hard to breath, to think.

And then that man who called himself the Dark Lord. He had put his hands all over Draco's Ginny, touching her and caressing her like a lover. The sick, disgusting pervert. If Draco got the chance, he would kill the man who had haunted his love for so many years. If he got the chance, he would make that bastard suffer. He would make him pay.

Draco heard footsteps as a tall, shadowy figure stepped towards him, face hidden by the shadows in the cell. As much as Draco wanted to stand his ground, he found himself too weak to lift his body off the floor. "Come for another round of torture, Father?" he hissed, glaring through one eye, as the other was bruised shut and pussing. He spit blood onto the floor as the man stopped walking and stared at him silently. "What will you torture me with this time, Father? Your cane? A whip? The Cruciatus? Do be more creative, won't you." Draco's voice was laced with sarcasm as he lifted his head off the ground, trying to ignore the pounding, and attempted to lift his body up by his arms.

A Beater's bat shot out and hit him across the back, making him fall back down to the hard stone, coughing at the impact to his sore lungs. Draco carefully kept his broken arm cradled against his body, trying to ignore the pain and the way the bone stuck out of it at an unnatural angle. "Blunt weapons again, eh?" His voice sounded weak even to his own ears.

"Don't you ever shut up?" asked a cold voice, and Draco realized it wasn't his father, but rather _him_.

"Tom Riddle," he acknowledged, coughing, feeling satisfaction when some of the blood he coughed up landed on the man's boots.

"You will address me as Lord Voldemort," Tom whispered, glaring at him. Draco could make out his features now that he had become accustomed to the light. The man was tall, about as tall as Draco, with short black hair in some old-fashioned style. He was no longer nude, but wore a nicely tailored suit and a thick green and silver cloak. He carried no wand, Draco observed, probably because he had no need for one, having mastered the art of ancient magic. His black orbs flashed crimson as he stared down at Draco in disgust.

"Kiss…my…ass," Draco whispered hoarsely, coughing up more blood. Tom sneered at him, lifting the bat and swinging it down against the back of Draco's head. Draco fell to the ground, the world spinning around him. He temporarily lost his vision as the entire room went black before coming into focus again. Sticky blood ran into his messy hair, plastering it to his head. "Now that wasn't very nice," Draco growled mirthlessly.

Tom leaned over, grabbing him by the hair and pulling his head up. "I hope you didn't expect me to be nice."

"Oh yes, I did. This cell is very dank and has not even a chamber pot to use. And what about some candles, hmm? Perhaps reading material? Honestly, you don't know the first thing about making a prisoner feel comfortable." Draco smirked and winked at Tom, who released him. He didn't bother to catch himself as his weak body slammed down onto the ground.

"Each word you say only shortens your lifespan here, Malfoy," hissed the man, circling around him.

"My lifespan? You realize that if you kill me, you will never be able to control Ginny." Draco smiled triumphantly. "She's a little spitfire, that one, and wild too. Nobody can control her, not even you. You might be able to threaten her with me, but well," he shrugged. "I don't see what good it does you. Anything you get from her, or should I say take from her, will just be a lie. She'll only be doing it because she cares for me."

Tom whipped around, anger resonating off of him in waves. His threw his palm towards Draco and the boy felt himself lifted off the ground, momentarily weightless, before he was slammed into the wall repeatedly. It finally stopped before he could pass out, and he stared at Tom, who was now eye-level with him from Draco's position, pressed against the wall by an invisible hand. "Ginevra loves me!" he roared, stepping closer. "She is mine! I will you use you for now to win her over, but soon I will kill you…No. I will have her kill you with her own hand." He laughed manically. "And she will, because she loves me, and I control her! I own her! She can not resist me forever, nor does she want to!"

Draco narrowed his eyes and shook his head pityingly. "You're lying to yourself. She doesn't love you, and she'll never join you, never willingly. She's too good for you, too good for me, for anyone, but definitely too good for you. You can force her, you can try to buy her, but you can never control her."

Tom grabbed Draco by the throat, closing his hand over Draco's windpipe. Draco found himself drawing in deeply, trying to force some breath into his lungs, but he could barely squeeze any past Tom's iron tight grip. "Oh, I will control her, and I will have a lot of fun with it." Tom leaned in close, his eyes gleaming with lust and hate. "I'm going to fuck her until she screams for more. I'm going to climb on top of her and force myself into her, again and again and again. I'm going to tear away her innocence and make her bleed, make her cry. And I'm going to enjoy it. And maybe I'll even let you watch, just to see your face twist in agony as I take her. But I wouldn't want you to get too excited."

Draco glared at him, hatred filling him to the core. "You sick…fucking…bastard…" he choked out between breaths.

Tom grinned, his eyes glowing bright red in the room, casting a crimson light upon the stone walls, making it seem as if they were bathed in virginal blood. "Don't tell me you've never once thought of having your way with her? Of taking her virginity? Of being inside of her, her sweaty, bare body underneath you, her skin at your fingertips? Don't tell me you've never considered it? Throwing her on the ground and ripping her clothes off as she screams? You can't deny it. You've lusted after her as well. You've wanted to hurt her."

Draco shook his head. "I suppose…that's the difference between…you and I, Tom. I'm no hero…but I'm much too noble to think such disgusting, perverted thoughts…I love Ginny, and yes, I lust after her…but I would never hurt her like that. You may rape her, but you will never…_ever_ make love to her."

Tom's grip released and Draco fell again to the stone floor, lying in a small pool of his own blood. Draco coughed and dragged in deep breaths of oxygen, relishing in the way it burned in his throat. He did not bother to look up at Tom as the man whispered, "You'll think differently when you hear her screaming my name."

Draco chuckled darkly, rolling onto his back and cradling his broken arm against him. "Is that all you came here for? To torment me with your lies?"

Tom stopped in the cell door, contemplating. He turned to Draco, his eyes narrowing, and hatred washed off of him in waves, crashing against Draco. Draco tried to fight, his icy magic, his core, battling with Tom's purple black waves of dark magic, but Tom was more experienced in the ways of ancient magic, and quickly won.

Pain crashed over Draco, making him lose sight with the strength of it. He forgot where he was as agony racked his body, worse than he had ever felt before, worse than his father's Cruciatus, worse even than when Tom tortured him in front of Ginny to make her sing. Every nerve was on fire, burning and screaming. All of his muscles tensed and clenched and ever bone felt as if it were fracturing a billion times. Draco's ligaments ripped and his head pounded. All he knew was the pain. He knew nothing, he was nothing. Draco had no name, no friends, no memories, no Ginny.

He screamed and writhed on the floor, begging silently for it to stop, though the words did not leave his lips. Even if he wanted to beg for the pain to end, Draco no longer knew how to speak, how to think rationally. Tom's lips curled as he unleashed his full power upon Draco, reveling in the power, the destruction. Finally he grew tired of the screams and let the boy go. Draco's eyes slowly opened, his body still twitching in agony. His body ached in rhythm with his heartbeat, which he could feel throughout every limb and ligament. Draco tried to make some sarcastic, witty comment, tried not to let Tom win this battle, tried to defend Ginny the only way he knew how, but all he could do was fight to stay conscious until Tom whirled around and left, and then his eyes rolled into his head and he fell into a blissful slumber.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Blaise sat amongst the gathered slaves and servants, his eyes roaming over them. There were about thirty in all, and the place seemed gloomy and dreary without Ginny or Alex here to brighten it up. Miss Maya sat beside him, the strong, tall, warrior-like woman exuding an air of confidence, respect, and love. She lifted her head and the already quiet room became absolutely silent.

"As you know, one of ours was recently murdered." There were quiet mumbles. "And another of ours is now held hostage to the new Dark Lord." More hushed muttering. She opened her mouth but was interrupted by a burly, dirty man, who stood and glared at Blaise.

"Alex is dead because that weird freak, that Weasley girl, set free Voldemort! She's damned us all!" Maya lifted her hand, silencing the angry voices.

"The question is not why Alex is dead or Ginny is captive, the question is what will we do about it?"

"I say we do what we've been doing! We stay silent and subordinate and we survive!" yelled an angry looking woman. Agreement could be heard throughout the crowd. "That girl brought it upon herself! You want revenge because your pet is dead and your charge is gonna be raped! Yeah, well my daughter was raped and murdered, and nobody was there to help me with revenge!"

Angry voices and shouts of agreement were starting to give Blaise a headache. Just as he was about to give up all hope, Maya stood, towering over them, glaring down at all of the other servants. Her face was angry and merciless. "Listen to you. You sound like cowards. Like traitors. Since when did we abandon our fellow slave in a time of crisis?! Since when did we let them rape and kill us all off at their every whim! We have been silent for a year now, secretly working and planning, don't deny it. Yes, it's blasphemy. Yes, it's tyranny. Yes, it will possibly get us all killed. Yes, just speaking about it guarantees torture and death. But you all knew this. You all took that risk and planned with me. We've silently harbored our hate for so long, and now we have a time to act, and listen to you, ready to tremble, ready to point the blame, ready to go back to a life of servitude. Cowards!"  
The voices were hushed as the slaves took their seats, staring at her. Blaise observed their faces. Young, old, men, women, black, white, and every colour in between, their nationalities ranging from the Far East to the Americas, from every walk of life, some once rich, some once poor, yet here they all were, sitting together, a giant family, united by one single thing: slavery. Suppression. War. A dictator that deemed them unworthy to live like normal witches and wizards, who took their lives away and forced them into servitude.

"Well, we will not cower! We will not back down! The time has come for a revolution! Yes, many, if not all, of us will die! Yes, the war will not be ended with this small skirmish. Yes, we may never live to see the wizarding world again free to all wizards, Muggle-born or no. Yes, we may never have equality again in our short lifetimes." She stared into each one of their eyes, lifting her head high and smiling. "And yes, we will pave the way. We will start the revolution. We will lead the fight to equality for our descendents to follow in our footsteps."

There was a rallying cheer and she smiled at her fellow slaves, her new army. Maya turned to him. "Now, it is time to plan your grand escape."

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

It turned out Maya already had the plan prepared, months in advance; it was just a matter of adding in Draco and Ginny's escape to the mix. They worked diligently through the night, after most of the other slaves had gone to sleep, and eventually settled on a course of action. Blaise would rescue Draco from the dungeon's first, sneaking down there should be easy enough, what with the ball planned for that night. While Blaise was doing so, Maya and the slaves, under the pretense of serving at the ball, would attack the Death Eaters there in large numbers. All of the Death Eaters would have their wands with them, she didn't doubt it, but their shock and confusion would give the slaves the upper hand, not to mention their surprise weapons: Muggle guns. Witches and wizards knew very little of Muggle weapons, and even less of guns, and this ignorance would help Maya and the slaves to escape. Ginny would, of course, be at the ball with Voldemort, most likely in his throne. In the chaos, Maya and all of the other slaves, while fighting, would make it their personal jobs to rescue her and hand her off to Blaise and Draco in whatever means they could. Then Draco and Blaise would escape on broomsticks with Ginny and leave the rebellion up to Maya and the slaves.

Blaise absorbed all of this information, memorizing every plan. When they were finished, Maya took him aside where she was sure they could not be overheard. "I have something else to mention to you that I told nobody else. In the woods there is a clearing about a mile away to the north. You may know what I'm talking about."

Blaise nodded. "Draco and I used to play Quidditch there. Why?"

"Well…I have set up a Portkey there. It will go off exactly at midnight Saturday. Midnight, do you understand? You must get Ginny and Draco there and escape together. It is simple enough, a red scarf, it will be tied to one of the goalposts. All you have to do is grab it as you fly by and when Midnight comes you will be teleported."

"Where does it go?" He asked.

"The Leaky Cauldron. From there, I suggest the Muggle world. But that is all I will tell you. Make sure you pass every bit of this information on to Draco."

He nodded and turned to leave but stopped. Blaise turned to the woman with a confused look. "But…how could you have set up a Portkey? You have to plan those months in advance, and you have to have a specified date and time. If we are just now today planning our escape for tomorrow…"

She smiled at him with a wise, all-knowing look in her eyes. Those eyes looked much too old for the woman, who couldn't have been a day over thirty. "Seers run in my family, Mr. Zabini. I am not the strongest seer…but I have had visions of this time in my life, this day, this moment, since I was a young child. I have seen Ginny's escape repeated times, seen it work and fail, seen her die, seen you die, seen Draco die. I've also seen you all live on quite a few occasions. You see…the future is not set in stone. Plans do not always work out. Good does not always win. It is about the decisions we make…those alter our future. I do know, for a fact, that tomorrow is the day you will attempt your escape, for no matter what happens in my visions, you always escape on that day. Always."

Blaise nodded slowly, absorbing the information. "Thank you, Miss Maya. I hope that…that those visions, where we all _do_ escape…I hope those are the right ones."

Maya smiled at him, her eyes crinkling in the corners, and she suddenly seemed to him like a much younger version of Albus Dumbledore. "Oh, and Blaise? Just…be careful on your broom."

Blaise nodded and left, heading for Draco's cell.

And now here he was, picking the lock with his wand, Alohomora being much too simple a spell to work on such a complex lock. He finally got it undone and pushed the iron door open, trying not to let it squeak. Draco moaned in pain, his head rolling to the side, and Blaise gasped in shock at the sight of his friend's bloody face. He knelt down beside Draco, lifting his head off of the ground and staring at him.

Draco looked a wreck. He had a concussion from his head being slammed against the stone repeatedly. His hair and face and clothes were covered in blood. The boy's arm was obviously broken, it didn't take a mediwitch to notice that, and he twitched in pain, lost in a feverish, painful sleep. Blaise frowned and woke his friend, who came to slowly, wincing all the while. "Blaise?" Draco asked hoarsely, coughing up blood. So apparently his lungs had been punctured by broken ribs as well.

Blaise smiled weakly at his friend. It was a shock that the boy was still able to talk, despite the agony. None of his wounds looked fatal, but that didn't change the fact that he should be paralyzed with pain. Blaise started pulling items out of his medical bag. "Yeah, it's me, Draco. How do you feel?"

The boy coughed again and glared weakly at him. "Like shit." Blaise laughed half-heartedly, causing Draco to giggle, but this only caused him more pain. He moaned, closing his eyes. "Hey Blaise?"

"Yeah mate?" Blaise asked, opening a bottle of bruise balm and glancing at his sleeping drought to make sure it wasn't expired. He methodically went about laying out everything he would need, thankful that it distracted him from his friend's gruesome state.

"Got any good drugs?" Blaise stared in wonder as Draco managed to crack a smile, shaking his head. Draco's face fell and pain engulfed him again.

"Oh no! I mean yeah, yeah, I have drugs. I was just shaking my head because…how can you joke around in your condition?" Blaise pulled out another bottle, screwing the cap off. "Here, drink this. It will take the pain away. It's incredibly strong. Then I'll give you something that will make you pass out for about twelve hours. While you're asleep, I'll heal you."

"How's Ginny?" Draco mumbled as Blaise opened his mouth, being careful not to touch his busted, bruised lip, and poured the drink into his mouth. Draco gagged and coughed, but Blaise forced him to swallow it.

"That stuff's expensive, don't waste it." Draco repeated his question, his body instantly relaxing as the drug took its affect. "She's…"

"Tell me," Draco begged, his eyes pleading Blaise. "Tell me the truth. Did that bastard rape her?"

Blaise shook his head. "The last time I saw her, no. But…she tried to kill herself, Drake."

Draco's reaction surprised him. Instead of looking angry, he smiled to himself. "That's my girl."

"You want her to kill herself?" He asked incredulously.

Draco shook his head. "No, of course not. But I want her to fight him, and she has her own strange ways of fighting. Of course I don't want her dead, but I know you won't let her die, and neither will he. It is, however, her own little way of rebelling, and I think it gets to him."

"Drake, I should tell you the plan." Blaise began, but his friend interrupted.

"Finally. I was just about to ask. Tell me you're planning to get me and Ginny out of here."

"Yeah, tomorrow, as a matter of fact. The slaves, they're rebelling. They're mad about Alex…and about being enslaved. They're also helping us out. There's supposed to be a lavish ball tomorrow that Voldemort is putting on for Ginny. They're going to start attacking the place with Muggle guns. You, Ginny, and I are going to escape by broomstick, Ginny on your broom and me on my own. We're going to go to the field where we used to play Quidditch and find a red scarf tied to one of the scoring posts. That's our Portkey to the Leaky Cauldron."

Draco whistled and lifted his eyebrows. "I'm impressed; this is all really thoroughly planned out, especially considering I haven't even been in this cell twelve hours."

Blaise nodded. "It would seem Miss Maya is a seer of sorts. She's had it planned out for months…if not years…Perhaps even before the war actually started. Either way, that's the escape plan, and you'd do well not to tell anyone."

Draco scoffed. "As if I would!"

"I'm just saying. Under the pressure of torture I don't know what you'll say. However," Blaise opened the vial of sleeping potion, "this will keep you knocked out for twelve hours straight, no interruptions, nobody to wake you up. Only after twelve hours and your body is healed will you actually become fully conscious. I'm going to have to heal you now, despite the risk of someone seeing your injuries and wounds mended, because I need you to have your full strength by tomorrow. You should be waking up about late afternoon…just as the ball is about to start."

Draco nodded, taking in this information as Blaise poured the liquid down his throat. He caught his friend's wrist and darkness began to wash over him, a peaceful, dreamless sleep lurking on the edges of his eyes. "Hey Blaise?"

"Yeah Drake?"

"Thanks. For everything. I want you to know…if I die…look out for Ginny. Take care of her…Love her." Draco smiled at his friend, who nodded.

"Same to you, friend." With that, Draco fell fast asleep, and Blaise went about mending his wounds.


	17. Masquerade

A/N: Well, here it is, chapter seventeen. It's amazing, what I was expecting to take only one chapter to write, is ending up taking three to four. Anyway. I was hoping to get 200 reviews before updating this chapter, but I only have, alas, 197. :( However, I write for the sake of writing, not for the reviews, nor am I an evil author that would wait until she got the number of reviews she wanted before updating, so you should all thank me for how nice I am. :P (That was sarcasm by the way. You don't have to thank me for anything). All I ask is that you read and enjoy and, if you would like, review! Just remember, they make me happy. And a happy author is a quick updater. ;) Okay, enough with the propaganda. On to the story!

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Ginny woke the sound of the door opening. Miss Maya stood in the doorway with a small smile on her face as she went bustling about, pulling clothes out of wardrobes and laying them out along with makeups and potions. Ginny watched her, confusion and apprehension growing in her gut.

"Miss Maya?" The woman jumped, spinning and staring at Ginny in shock.

"Oh…I'm just sorry, dear. Hearing you speak…it's new to me." She smiled at Ginny and strode over to where the girl sat up in the bed.

"What's going on?" Ginny asked timidly, staring at the fancy clothes laid out before her.

Maya glanced at them as well, her face sad. "There is a ball tonight in honor of your engagement to the Dark Lord."

Ginny's heart sank as she stared at the fancy gown. "I don't want to go."

"I'm afraid neither you nor I have a choice in the matter…However, sometimes we have to make the best out of something bad. Sometimes we have to go along with what we're told to do in order to…rise above." Maya smiled at her and pulled the girl out of bed. "Now, we need to get you ready. I see you've already bathed, that's good, but you're going to again, until your skin shines. Use these scented potions. They will calm you. When you're finished, come out here and I'll dress you and get you ready."

Ginny did as she was told, knowing it futile to resist. Besides, arguing would only get Maya in trouble, not her, and she did not wish Tom's wrath on the woman. She soaked in the tub for an hour, as instructed, scrubbing at her head and body. When she was done, the woman dressed her in the fancy outfit. It was a beautiful black dress that touched her feet. The top was fashionably low cut in both the front and back, revealing her chest and the arch of her spine. The rest of the dress was a rich, silky black fabric, not unlike that of the green dress she had worn earlier, simple in the way the single piece of fabric hung off of her hips straight to the ground, but elegant in the small folds and perfect craftsmanship that went into the trail that followed behind her.

Ginny stood before the mirror, staring at her reflection as Miss Maya curled her already curly hair and pinned it up fashionably so that the huge curls rested on her shoulders. "You look beautiful, dear," she whispered as she accented Ginny's eyes with makeup and put red lipstick on her lips.

Ginny didn't say anything for some time. "I look like the Devil's whore," she whispered, her eyes narrowing darkly. "And that's what I am."

Miss Maya just watched her reflection sadly. "Just hold out a little bit longer, Ginny," she whispered, and the girl's eyes widened, though she didn't dare voice, or even think, what she thought the message implied.

"I can only hold on for so long before the tide washes me out to sea," Ginny muttered cryptically, her eyes meeting Miss Maya's in the glass.

"Then we'll just have to build you a boat, won't we?"

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

The first thing Ginny thought was that nobody had told her this ball would be a masquerade. She stared apprehensively at the people standing and chatting, dancing, flirting, gossiping, all around her, all wearing masks, all except her. And Tom, she suspected. He didn't seem the one to hide behind a mask, as he preferred to boast and strut his evil ways.

She stepped into the crowd, gazing around her worriedly at the masked people. Some of them were hideous monsters, not at all sorry about what they were. Some of them hid behind the facades of lovely animals and creatures. Others were simple masks meant only to conceal and nothing else. She stared around her and they stared back.

And then suddenly the music started playing. Everyone began to dance around her, skirts twirling and robes flying as women were lifted in the air and set back down, as partners switched, bowing to each other and curtsying before carousing with their neighbors. Ginny was pushed around in the chaos than ensued.

A hand tapped her shoulder and a man bowed, not waiting for her curtsy before he grabbed her, spinning her a few rounds and letting her go. She twirled hazardously before colliding with a body that spun her around again and danced her through the room. Masks changed before her eyes as she was passed from hand to hand, some women, some men, all leering, all hiding behind those porcelain facades. Ginny began to feel dizzy from all of the dancing, not to mention tired, and her feet ached. She was lost and confused and wanted nothing more than to escape somewhere quiet and dark and alone.

Finally her body stopped spinning and her head attempted to play catch-up. When she finally got her bearings back, she was in the arms of a stranger, his Devilish leering down at her. But Ginny knew who he was immediately from his eyes, so dark they were endless black orbs. Tom ripped off his mask and grinned at her playfully. "Ginevra! I am so glad you could join us." He acted like another surprised party-goer and not the host. "Will you dance with me?"

Ginny had neither the willpower nor the stable stomach to resist him as he gently lifted her hand and twirled her under it, though not enough to make her dizzy, before pulling her close, pressing her body tight against his. "I do love these parties, don't you, Ginevra? All of the intrigue, all of the mystery, men looking and women, women looking at men, sometimes men looking at men and women at women, and they don't even know it, nor do they care! A massive orgy for the rich." He laughed, his aristocratic voice conveying his enjoyment.

Ginny narrowed her eyes at him. Tom Riddle cheerful was never a good sign. "What are you so happy about?" she asked bluntly as he twirled them towards the door. He merely grinned at her and placed a finger to his lips before lowering his mask. Tom placed his hand on her face and instantly it was as if she had blinders on. She realized the feeling of something plastered to her face must be a mask, one that formed perfectly to her forehead, high cheekbones, nose, and the shape of her head. It stopped above her lips, leaving them bare and bright red against the contrast of…whatever colour and design of mask he had chosen to give her. Ginny stared at him in confusion as he waltzed them towards the huge entrance doors.

"But do you know what I love most about these balls, Ginevra?" Ginny shook her head in bewilderment. He leaned close, his breath hot against her skin. "Ditching them."

With that they were out the door and walking quietly down the hall, his arm hooked through hers, looking just like any other couple on their way to a room for the night. Ginny wanted to yell, to scream out for help. She would much rather be in a room full of Death Eaters than alone with just Tom Riddle. But she was also curious, and so she followed him, knowing she had no choice, until she realized they had wound up back at the richest, best room in the entire house, the one she had been locked up in for the past day. Tom opened the door and held it for her like a gentleman, smiling at her and ushering her in. Ginny warily went into the room, which looked the same as before, and jumped at the sound of the door closing behind her and locking.

Suddenly Tom's hands were on her shoulders and hair as he caressed her romantically, his light touches sending shivers down her spine. His mask dropped to the floor beside her and his hands rose to her face, peeling her own off. She observed absentmindedly, as it fell beside his, that it was an angel's mask, white, sparkling feathers in the shape of wings protruding from the sides of it. Ironic.

But she couldn't think about that for long. Tom's lips were on her neck, distracting her. As much as she hated him, she couldn't resist the way her body reacted to his touch. He had never felt so tangible, so real. In her dreams, there had always been an imaginary quality to his touches. Even when he manifested himself so that he was almost physical, he still didn't truly exist. But now he had a body, a corporeal, powerful body, and it was affecting her own, try as she might to resist it.

But that didn't mean she was going to let him do whatever he wanted. "Tom," she whispered, pulling away from him and staring at the ground. "What do you want from me?"

"What do I want from you, Ginevra?" he repeated, circling her until he was in front of her. She could feel his eyes on her, but she was afraid to look up, afraid of what she would see, afraid of what she would do. "I do not want anything from you, Ginevra. I simply want you." Suddenly he was there, pressed against her, his body invading her space. She tried to step back but he held her in place with his hand on the small of her back. Instead she found herself arching away from that hand, or perhaps into him, she wasn't sure which. "I want you, Ginevra," he whispered sexily in her ear, sending a shiver up and down her spine.

And then his lips were assaulting hers, desperate, rash, lustful. He let out a small moan of pleasure as his tongue invaded her mouth, studying every crevice, every tooth, acquainting with her own tongue. Was she trying to push him out of her mouth or pull him in further? She didn't know what she was doing anymore. All she knew was that this was wrong, and yet she wanted it, she suddenly wanted it fiercely in a way she could not explain. Was Tom playing a trick on her? Messing with her head? Or had she been this way all along? Had she been attracted to the darkness in him since the beginning?

Ginny found herself being backed up slowly until she hit the bed. She fell back onto it and Tom pulled away briefly to breathe, his eyes running along her body, full of lust and dark desire and passion. He grabbed her thighs and pushed her further back on the bed, giving him room to crawl between her legs before attacking her again with his mouth.

He moaned again, or was that her this time? She didn't know. She could feel both of his hands, burning her like fire, her body tuning into their touches. One trailed down from where it had been previously buried in her hand to her breast, caressing it through the soft fabric. Ginny sighed, arching against him, never having known until now how sensitive her breasts were. The other hand trailed down to her thighs, which he pushed apart before settling his hips between them.

Ginny's head was slow and sluggish, as if she were wading through fog. All she could feel was his hands on her body, yet those same hands that usually struck fear in her heart made her pine for him in lust. Ginny felt an unfamiliar but not unwelcome tightening between her legs, and her lower belly began to burn hot at the sudden sensation of his pelvis against hers. She realized, absently, that her hands had buried in his hair and that she was kissing him back, not unwillingly.

His hands trailed up her bare thigh under her dress to her side. He stopped kissing her long enough to lift the dress over her head, leaving her exposed in nothing but a pair of silky black underwear. Ginny met his eyes and hers widened at what she saw there. Lust swam in his dark orbs and his toned chest heaved as he looked her up and down like a wild, ravenous animal. He was like a vampire gone crazy by the smell of her blood, but instead it was the sight of her almost naked body that made him look so. Tom grinned triumphantly and leaned over, capturing her lips once more.

She should have fought more. She should have resisted him more than she did. Yet she didn't want to. Ginny was enjoying this too much, enjoying these new, unfamiliar feelings, enjoying the way her body bloomed as he kissed her.

Out of nowhere, she felt his fingers at her panties, tempting her. As much as she wanted to arch against him, she also suddenly wanted to shrink away in fear. What was he doing? What was _she_ doing? The realization dawned on her that he was using her, that these hormones were not her own but were rather his washing over her, affecting her the same way they affected him. Ginny felt disgust and shame well up in her. He was trying to get her to willingly have sex with him. He wanted to make her feel as though she were a horrible person that eagerly would give her virginity away to him. He was trying to break her spirit as well as her body.

"Tom…Tom…Tom stop!" Ginny shook her head to escape his lips and brought her hands up, pushing at his chest.

He glared at her, angry that she had stopped him. "What Ginevra? What's the matter? Don't you enjoy my body?" He tried to woo her, and she could distinctly feel his magic washing over her, but she ignored it as best she could.

"Tom, I don't want to do this." Ginny tried to sit up but he pushed her back down, eyes angry. "Tom…I said stop!"

He grabbed her wrists in his hands, pinning them to the bed below. "_I_ will say when we are finished. And we are nowhere near finished yet." He crashed his lips against hers, no longer romantic or even desperate, but rather angry and resentful and demanding. Ginny struggled against him, but he was too strong, too powerful. He kept one of his hands on her wrists while the other trailed down her body to her panties, ripping them off forcefully. Was he going to rape her now? He had tried it before in her dream, but she had had some power then, some control. Now she felt powerless and weak as he assaulted her with his eyes, his crimson orbs lustfully roaming over her naked sex, though he did not touch her.

Ginny found she was shaking with sobs, however they had no affect on him. "Please, Tom! Please stop!"

"I really didn't want to have to take your virginity this way, Ginevra. I wanted you to enjoy it. We could make love." He took her face in his hand, and for that Ginny was glad. At least he wasn't going to rape her, not yet. "I even wanted to wait until our wedding night. I'm and old-fashioned kind of guy, you know? If you would just stop struggling and enjoy this, it could be very pleasurable."

Ginny glared at him through her tear-soaked eyes. "I could never enjoy having you defile me."

Tom's eyes narrowed angrily. "That is too bad then. We will just have to do this the hard way." His hand tightened around her wrist and shackled chains reached out from under the bed to close around them, the same color, purple black, of his chaotic, dark magic. He unzipped his pants and she looked away in disgust, trying to ignore the sight of his naked manhood, pulsing and excited, ready to invade her. "I will enjoy hearing you scream."

Tom lifted her legs and threw them over his shoulders, leaning over to capture her lips once more. She shrank away from him, away from his touch, and closed her eyes, preparing for the worst. Ginny made herself numb, sinking away from this world, her thoughts on Draco, on her family. It was the first time she purposely allowed herself to think of them, and the sharp sting of pain when she saw their happy, smiling faces, their red hair, their characteristic freckles, helped drive away the feeling of Tom's touches.

However, when nothing happened, she opened her eyes confusedly, staring at his annoyed face in perplexity. "What?!" he yelled, turning his head towards the door. That's when she heard the muffled voice of a man outside.

"Please, My Lord, we need you! The Mudblood slaves are attacking us!" informed the Death Eater from outside.

"Then take care of it!" Tom screamed, eyes glowing crimson in the dark room.

"My Lord, they're killing us! They've got some strange weapon, like Muggle wands! We don't know what to do!"

Tom glared at nothing in particular. "Guns, you moron. Don't you know anything about Muggle filth?" He glanced back down at her. "We will have to do this some other time, Ginevra."

Suddenly his weight was lifted and the shackles disappeared as he strode towards the door, his sex still exposed, and ripped it open, glaring at the Death Eater before him. The man's eyes widened at the sight of Ginny, naked and curled up in a ball sobbing, and Tom, his pants unzipped. "This had better be worth my time. Guard her, make sure she doesn't leave. _Do not_ even _think _about laying your filthy hands on her." The Death Eater nodded his head quickly, shrinking away from Tom's glowing red eyes. Tom zipped up his pants and threw on his cloak, striding out of the room and down the hall.

The man turned towards her, waggling his eyebrows suggestively, though all he did was lean against the door frame, grinning at her. Ginny pulled her knees against her chest and sobbed openly, too paralyzed with fear to even pull the covers over her naked body. The thought of what Tom would have done to her if this man had not intervened frightened and disgusted her so much she wanted to scrub her at her body until the skin was red and raw.

In her state Ginny didn't hear the footsteps, muffled by the thick carpet, running towards her. She let out an ear piercing scream when she felt a hand rest on her shoulder.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Draco and Blaise ran quickly through the dark, torch-lit hallways towards the ballroom. They were late; Blaise had been detained at the party by his mother, and so had just arrived at Draco's cell to release him ten past Eleven. Draco's head mentally ticked down the time until the Portkey was activated, his thoughts all the while on Ginny.

"Ginny should be up in the throne or in the arms of one of the slaves. They've each sworn to protect her at all costs until we get there. As soon as we grab her we have to leave." Blaise went over the battle plan between huffs of breath. "Then we're going to escape through the nearest window or door and get the hell out of here."

"Good luck with that. There are Death Eaters everywhere." Draco was currently under his invisibility cloak, courtesy of Blaise's precise planning, but he figured someone might notice a stray broom flying off towards the woods. Not to mention, the wind would most likely blow his cloak aside and expose him and Ginny.

Blaise slowed as they neared the huge oak door, stooping against the wall to catch his breath. "You'll just have to use those good seeker skills of yours then, won't you?"

Draco smiled at him and turned to the door, taking a shaky breath. He glanced back at Blaise and held out his hand. His friend took his hand and pulled him into a hug, patting him on the back. "Good luck, friend."

Draco nodded. "Don't get yourself killed."

Blaise grinned, shaking his head. "I wasn't planning on it."

"Good. I don't want to have to come back for the body."

They exchanged shaky smiled before Draco kicked the door open, running into the chaos, Blaise close behind.

Draco spun in the pandemonium around him, his eyes searching for Ginny as he tried to ignore the images before him. People in beautiful gowns ran screaming, being shot down by crude pistols and rifles. Blood sprayed everywhere, though the wounds weren't always fatal. The slaves, dressed in their black and white uniforms, had murder in their eyes as they opened fired at the aristocratic Death Eaters that had oppressed them. Draco felt pride at the sight. He had seen so many people die at the hands of Death Eaters, and this revolution was past overdue.

But he couldn't dwell on that, he had to find Ginny. Draco pushed his way through the crowded room of running, screaming, fighting people, avoiding flashes of stray spells and ducking low behind Death Eaters, using them as shields, until he made his way against the far right wall, where he would be fairly safe from bullets.

Between the slaves with their guns and the Death Eaters with their wands, the two groups were about equal in strength, even if they weren't in number. But amongst all of the chaos and confusion, Draco could not find Ginny anywhere, despite how her flaming red hair would stand out anywhere in the crowd. A hand on his wrist drew his attention down to Miss Maya, grim and blood-splattered, though she seemed to be unhurt. His heart dropped as he saw the fear in her face. "Mister Malfoy, Ginny is not here! I searched for her everywhere and can't find her! Neither have I seen the Dark Lord. I think he must have taken her somewhere!"

Draco's eyes widened and he grabbed her shoulders, shaking her roughly. "Where?! Where is she?!"

She shook her head. "I don't know, but you must find her! I did not See this happening! And you must hurry! You have only three quarters of an hour left!"

Draco nodded grimly and ran towards the door, his eyes searching for Blaise. He grabbed his friend by the arm mid-stride and pulled him along, not breaking his pace. "Draco, what is it?!"

"It's Ginny!" Draco yelled over the tumult and screams. "She's not here! That bastard took her somewhere!"

"Where?! How do you know?!"

"Miss Maya told me. I don't know where…But I might be able to figure it out. C'mon." Draco tugged him along towards the door, stopping suddenly. His friend ran into him, throwing them to the floor in a tangle of limbs.

"What do you mean Maya told you? You've got your cloak on Draco!"

Draco had forgotten he was wearing his cloak. How had the woman seen him? Was it some part of her strange Seer magic? It didn't matter, there was no time to dwell on the question. Right now, all that mattered was finding Ginny. Draco shoved himself off the floor and pulled his friend up, turning again towards the door.

Draco froze, staring in horror at Tom. He stood in the doorway, blood-red eyes observing the chaos before him, his teeth bared like a rabid animal ready to kill, a dark purple aura surrounding him. Draco backed up a pace, but realized, as Tom's eyes looked through him, that the man couldn't see him under the cloak. "C'mon, get under, fast." Blaise ducked under his cloak and they slowly made their way towards the door, being careful not to rustle the fabric and expose themselves.

When they arrived at the open door, Tom had not moved from his spot. He looked ready to kill, and Draco had no doubt that he would if he knew they were there. Draco froze, unsure of what to do, knowing that they couldn't get past the man without him sensing their presence.

A warrior-like cry sounded from behind them, saving Draco from his decision. He stared in horror and wonder as Maya, her fierce face covered in blood, a gun in one hand and an axe in the other, ran towards Tom, firing. Tom narrowed his eyes in annoyance and lifted a hand, the bullets melting away before they reached him, to Draco's astonishment. That kind of power was frightening, to say the least. But the woman didn't stop. As she drew closer she started swinging the axe, leaving Tom with no option but to dodge away from it, though he did so gracefully. She forced him away form the open door and into the tumult. Draco took his chance and escaped out the only door, hoping the woman survived, though he highly doubted she would. Nobody attacked Voldemort and lived to tell the tale.

Draco ran down seemingly random hallways towards the heart of the Manor. "Draco, do you know where you're going?"

He nodded, angry face set in stone, as he went through blueprints in his head and formulated the quickest way towards Ginny. "That guy's pretty easy to figure out. I know he's got Ginny in one of the best, most lavish rooms in the house, and I know that's where we'll find her."


	18. Thirty Minutes

A/N: The song used in this chappie is "30 Minutes" by T.A.T.U. I got the lyrics courtesy of sing365. It's a really good song, kinda trippy sounding with the little kids laughing in the background, and goes perfectly with Ginny's mindset. Anyway, here it finally is, chapter eighteen. Enjoy!

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

"Avada Kedavra!" Lucius yelled, the green light jetting out of his wand and hitting a slave square in the chest, sending him flying backwards. "Filthy Mudbloods," he growled, whipping his head around to search the crowds, his silver hair falling out of its tie. His thoughts were calm and calculating as he searched the crowds, face stoic, looking for a particular shock of red hair…or silver similar to his own. Lucius Malfoy was certain that this ridiculous slave rebellion was an attempt to rescue Ginny Weasley from the clutches of the Dark Lord, and he was sure his son and Blaise Zabini were involved somehow. He had come this far, he would not allow his son to escape with that damned Weasley girl.

Lucius's eyes narrowed at a flash of cloth with no body attached. He moved swiftly and elegantly through the crowds, though the boy before him moved just as quickly. There was no doubt in his mind, when he caught sight of tell-tale silver hair floating in thin air, that it was his son under his invisibility cloak. From the way the bulk moved through the fight, leaving a large wake in the crowd, it was obvious both full-grown boys, almost men, were trying to fit under the same small, green invisibility cloak. He sneered at their stupidity before a flash of metal and a warrior-like scream from behind had him wheeling in his tracks.

A filthy Mudblood slave ran towards the Dark Lord, her wild hair fanning around her head, her face twisted in rage. She lifted an axe above her head, swinging it down towards the Dark Lord, who deftly dodged her. The woman continued to swing, the axe making a whooshing noise as it cut through the air, always missing the young man, though, Lucius noticed, it drove him back away from the door. So she was helping his son to escape? He unsheathed a sharp blade from his faux cane and grew closer to her, until she was just before him, her back turned to him as she tried to back Tom Riddle into a corner. "Damn Mudbloods. Nothing but trouble."

As she whipped around at the sound of his voice, head snapping towards him and eyes frightened, he brought the sword down in an arc, slicing it across her throat. Blood sprayed out of her neck, hitting him in the face, and she fell to the ground, writhing and clutching at the wound. Lucius watched in glee as her life blood sprayed out of her neck in time with her pulse, which became more erratic and weaker as it drained from her body. He crouched down beside her with a smirk. "Any last words, love?"

She glared at him with wide eyes, attempting to speak through the blood pouring out of her mouth and neck. Her mouth opened and closed and she whispered, spitting up crimson, "You will die…by your son's…hand…" She smiled triumphantly at him before her head fell back, eyes becoming lifeless, body stilling. He stood, lifting his sword, and sliced it down across her neck, cutting off her head. Lucius lifted the bloody, filthy thing by the hair and strode towards the door, sword in one hand, head in the other, wand at his hip. He had a gift to deliver to his son.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Draco was almost there, Ginny's room was just around the corner. He flew down the halls towards her, as if he could feel her presence growing stronger the closer her came. There was a man up ahead, a Death Eater garbed in some fancy suit, leaning against the door frame of an open, heavy door, his back to them. Draco fumed when he noticed the man's head was turned, looking into the room, no doubt at Ginny, though Draco couldn't see her from this angle. He stopped abruptly, whipping off his cloak and grabbing his friend's hand. Blaise slowed to a stop, eyes questioning, for they were obviously within range to fire a spell at the man. Draco put a finger to his lips and crept closer, feet muffled by the carpet.

He tapped the man on the shoulder, who jumped and turned in surprise and fright. Draco's fist was already clenched and ready by the time the Death Eater's face turned fully towards him, and he punched the guy squarely in the nose, the force of his blow knocking him out cold.

Blaise whistled and lifted an eyebrow. "Remind me never to get between you and your girl, mate." Draco just shrugged and turned towards the room, staring in horror.

Ginny was naked. That was the first thing that registered in his mind. Her bare, pale flesh contrasted with the dark sheets beneath her, her red hair spilling under her head like blood. Draco stepped closer, face contorted in rage, pain, and shock, as he noticed her form was curled in a tight ball, her body shaking with sobs. He moved towards her until she was within touching distance, before reaching a hand down and resting it on her shoulder.

Ginny screamed loudly in his ears, the shock making him jump and draw his hand away. She swung her small fists at him, one colliding with his stomach, the other his face. Ginny continued to kick and swing blindly, eyes shut tight in fear, making it obvious that she thought he was Tom Riddle. "Ginny!" he yelled, grabbing one flailing wrist in his hand, the other tangling in his hair and yanking on it. "Ginny, stop! It's just me!"

She continued to cry and swing and scream, so he grabbed her, pulling her body tight against his and holding onto her flailing form for dear life. Tears spilled out of his eyes not from her weak, feeble punches, but the fact that she didn't recognize him, the knowledge that she was in pain, the truth that that bastard had touched her, had done this to her. Eventually her screams quieted and her body stilled and he glanced down to find her gazing up at him, innocent face streaked with tears, bloodshot eyes broken and questioning, mouth gasping for breath. She trembled in his arms and he held her closer as she wrapped her arms around him and began to sob into his shirt.

"I'm gonna kill him! I'm gonna fucking bloody kill him!" He yelled, but stopped when he noticed Ginny cringing at the anger in his voice. Draco rocked her, whispering soothingly in her ear and rubbing her back, trying to calm her crying. "I'm gonna kill that bastard, Blaise."

Blaise picked up Ginny's dress off of the floor, looking grim. "Well, you're going to have to do that some other time, mate. Right now we need to get Ginny out of here. Here, Gin, put this on."

"No!" Draco swatted the dress away from her. "I don't want her wearing that. That filthy bastard made her wear that."

Blaise sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Look, we don't have much time. There's only half an hour until the Portkey leaves with or without us."

"She isn't wearing that!" Draco pried Ginny off of him and pulled the shrunken suitcase out of his pocket, enlarging it. He ruffled through it, pulling out a pair of jeans, a shirt, and some underwear for her to wear. "Here, Ginny, lift your arms up." She did as she was told and he dressed her swiftly, pulling her clothes on as Blaise shrunk back down the suitcase and stuck it in his pocket, all the while keeping watch on the hallway. "Okay, we need to go now, Ginny. C'mon, love."

He threw his cloak around her shoulders and clasped it before picking her up in his arms. Ginny's hands latched around his neck and she shrunk against him, pulling him close to her. "It's okay, Ginny, we're going to get out of here."

"Shit!" Blaise whispered, backing away from the door. He slammed it shut and placed a locking charm on it. "Draco, your father is coming this way! We have to find another way out of here!"

Draco cursed and spun in a circle, eyes examining the room. There were no windows and no other doors out, but his eyes narrowed in on a ventilation shaft high up above her bed. He lifted his wand, ripping the wrought-iron grate off of the shaft.

"Alright, Ginny, I need you to climb in there."

"What are you doing, mate?! We have to get out of here! We can't go through there! We don't know where it leads and besides, it will take forever to travel through that thing!" Blaise paced like a trapped animal. "Maybe we can fight him?"

Ginny's torso was already disappearing into the small ventilation shaft as Draco held her over him, her feet on his shoulders. "No. My father is too strong for us to fight, and I'm not putting Ginny at risk. We want to get out of here quickly, but it won't make any difference if we're dead. Besides, I know the ventilation shafts in this manor like the back of my hand." Draco pushed her feet in. "Keep going, Ginny, I'm coming up after you." He stood on the top of the huge bed frame, using one of the four posts for balance. Draco pulled himself up, muscles straining, lifting with his upper-body strength alone. The air duct was much smaller than he remembered as a child, and he was thankful he was lean enough to fit his torso into it. However, there was not enough room to turn around and help Blaise up. "Blaise!" Draco bumped his head on the metal in an attempt to turn it. "Grab my foot!"

Draco braced his shoulders against the walls, using one of his feet for traction as his friend grabbed the other and hoisted himself up. "Mate, next time we do this, remember to take a bath. Your feet wreak."

Draco smirked and tugged his friend up until the boy could pull himself in without help. "C'mon, let's go. Ginny, keep moving forward. I'm right behind you." He could barely make out the outline of her body in the darkness of the small, tunnel-like air duct. "Move quickly, we only half thirty minutes left. Turn right at the next duct that branches off."

He hoped they would make it in time.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Lucius finally broke the charm on the door, falling into the huge room. A dress and black lingerie lay on the floor, and the sheets were ruffled from an obvious struggle. He glanced around the room, studying it, until his eyes fell on the iron grate on the floor. Lucius scanned the walls until he found the one with an iron-grate missing, right over the bed. He sneered and strode towards it, standing on the bed and glancing into the air duct. He saw a shadowy figure crawling away from him, but he did not yell out or curse the boy. No, it would do not good to kill them now, he wouldn't be able to get the Weasley girl out of the air duct, his shoulders were much too large, and besides, Malfoys did not go crawling into ventilation shafts.

He jumped down from the bed and strode out of the room and down the hall, towards the nearest balcony. Lucius knew his son and friends were heading for the nearest exit, and he would be there waiting for them there when they arrived.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Ginny crawled through the tiny air ducts as dark as her heart and mind. She could see nothing, not even her hand in front of her face, only feel along the cold, smooth metal walls and floor, all the same. She could be crawling upside down, towards heaven, towards hell, and she wouldn't know it, for this dark tunnel was the same on all sides. Never before had the girl felt so incredibly claustrophobic in this place or in her own skin.

She followed Draco's commands, unspeaking, doing as bid, letting him lead them by memory alone. Ginny only hoped he was right in his plan. She only hoped this would work, for hope was the only weapon she had.

And then there was light up ahead, dim, but growing stronger. She could see her own hair in front of her face, dark red, and her pale hand on the metal wall. Draco stopped her with a hand on her bare ankle, the touch surprising her and oddly comforting. "Lay flat. I'm going to go first to make sure the coast is clear and help you guys down."

Ginny squeezed herself tight against the wall, cheeks flushing hot when Draco scooted past her. It was impossible not to touch in this tight, cramped space, and she felt the heat of his body against hers, every muscle, the skin of his bare arms. His silvery hair tickled her nose, and she breathed in deep his scent. She found his hand was on her hip, only to move past her, or was it?

Her thoughts were interrupted when he finally scooted past, accidentally kicking her on the top of her head with his bare and unpleasant smelling feet. "Sorry 'bout that, Ginny." She pinched her nose and watched as he shoved the grate off and flooded their small tunnel with light. He started slipping, head-first, out of sight until he had completely disappeared. She heard a few thumps and a hissed "Ouch" before crawling closer, peeking her head over the sharp drop.

Draco stood from his spot on the floor, lifting his arms to her. "C'mon, you're not but seven feet off the ground. It just looks really tall 'cause you're head-first and all." That was comforting. She bit back a retort and inched forward, using her arms to push herself out of the tight air duct. Ginny found herself slipping quickly down, then falling, unable to stop herself with nothing but a smooth wall beside her and the hard ground quickly rising up to meet her head. Then Draco's warm arms were around her and she was falling into him, he was straightening her upright, and the two of them crashed against the wall and floor together.

"Mate, I'm coming down." Ginny heard Blaise call distantly from the air duct.

Draco responded with a weak "Yeah, okay," his eyes never leaving hers.

Ginny glanced at his face, which was tinged with pink. His body was warm against his and as she moved to pull away, his arms tightened around her midsection, holding her closer. Draco licked his lips unconsciously, making Ginny blush. She noticed suddenly how unruly his hair had become from the fall, the silver mess on his head matted with blood from his time in the prison and sticking up every which way. She brought a hand up, attempting to smooth it down, but it only fell over one stormy eye. The other looked at her with swirling emotions she could not understand or explain.

There was a yell and a loud thud behind her. She whipped around as Draco looked up, blinking in surprise to find Blaise lying on the floor rubbing his neck. "Blimey, mate, you were supposed to help me." Blaise glanced at them, lifting an eyebrow before rolling his eyes. "Oh. Well that explains things."

Ginny was sure she didn't know what he meant, but she didn't voice her question. Blaise stood, glancing to their left, where a large French door led out onto a dark, secluded balcony, shadowy woods in the background, the tops of their trees bathed in the moon's eerie glow. "Right, well, best get going. Pull out your broom, Draco, and put it to good use." Blaise grinned at Draco, who snorted and rolled his eyes, a small smirk on his lips. Ginny watched the exchange in confusion.

"You'll be riding my broom, love." Ginny heard Blaise attempt to suppress his snicker at Draco's comment, ending up in a coughing fit. Now she was even more confused.

Draco pulled out a shrunken broom from his pocket, looking much like a miniature for a doll house she had had as a child. He enlarged it to full-size and pushed open the door, holding the broom out for Ginny. She lifted a leg to mount the broom behind him, but the feel of a hard wooden wand sticking into her throat and a cold body pressed against her back stopped her. "Draco, what have I taught you? It is not polite to leave a party without thanking the host."

Draco wheeled around, his face a mask of shock, fury, and worry. He gaped at his father, for Ginny would recognize the cold, evil voice of the man with his wand to her throat anywhere, his wand in his hand and trained at Lucius before Ginny could blink.

"Father, unhand her." Draco growled, his face so frighteningly angry even she was startled.

Lucius's wand pressed harder into her neck until it hurt. "Oh, I think not. And I would suggest dropping your own wand if you don't want me to hurt her."

Draco looked between her and his father, his face wavering, but he jumped off the broom and stepped forward, lifted his wand higher, pointing it between the man's temples. "You can't hurt her, the Dark Lord forbid it, or do you not remember?"

She could hear Lucius's smirk in his retort. "Do you see the Dark Lord here right now, Draco? No, you do not, and neither do I. Do not worry, I won't kill her, my self-preservation is far more important than my vendetta, but it doesn't mean I can't teach her a little something about pain."

Draco snapped, his face turning red with fury. "Get your hands off her! Confri-"

"Expelliarmus!" Draco's wand flew out of his hand and over the balcony, where Ginny heard it hit the ground some time later. "Honestly, Draco, you know you could not beat me in a duel, and besides, what if you hit our little Ms. Weasley, here, hmm? It would be wise of you not to retaliate again, for I have a wand at your lover's throat and you have…well, nothing." Lucius's cruel laughter sent a cold shiver down Ginny's spine that seeped into her very toes. "Your little uprising has caused a lot of trouble, Draco. People are dying, and for what, for a girl?" Ginny saw Lucius hold up something shadowy and dark in his hand, and a horrible metallic stench of blood filled her nose. She watched in horror as Lucius tossed it in the air and Draco reached to the grab it, his Seeker reflexes reacting on instinct. She saw the disgust and horror grow on his face as he stared at what appeared to be a red ball with string hanging off, before he dropped it to the ground.

No, not a ball at all, not string, a head, with hair, and it was red because it was covered in blood. A gruesome, almost unrecognizable, face stared at her, the mouth opened in a scream, the eyes narrowed fiercely, the forehead creased in fury. Ginny felt bile rise in her throat, but she swallowed it back down, trying to process the new information in her mind. Maya. The woman's face was Miss Maya's. The image of another face, hair as red as fire and also covered in blood, her face staring down at Ginny through the cracks in the wooden floorboards, suddenly flashed in Ginny's mind. No. Please no. "Now, you will give up this foolish notion of an escape and come back quietly and hope that the Dark Lord will not kill you on the spot for your foolishness."

Draco smiled, his lips curling up in a triumphant smirk, and he leaned against the banister with his arms crossed over his chest. "I think not, Lucius."

"You insolent-" Lucius's voice was silenced by the sound of something similar to a pot breaking, and shards of painted porcelain rained down on Ginny's head as the weight of his wand at her neck and his body at her back fell away to the ground below.

She glanced back to find Blaise holding what remained of a once elaborately decorated pot one would expect to see in ancient Greece or Rome. "Hope that wasn't expensive, mate."

Draco shrugged. "Not like I give a damn, it belonged to him anyway. If I had the time I would break every one of his precious trinkets, no matter the expense. Actually, I think I would enjoy breaking the expensive ones more." Draco mounted his broom and pulled Ginny up in front of him. "Let's get the hell out of here."

Blaise nodded his assent and mounted his own broom, and the three of them were off, soaring over the vast lawn and beautiful gardens, fairies glowing in the flowers and flying over the fountain like giant fireflies. Draco dipped low, their legs skimming over the neatly cut grass, moist from the cool night's air. Ginny slowly let go of the handle of the broomstick and lifted her arms high, reveling in the feel of the wind in her hair, the smell of the grass and air, the sight of the starry sky and bright moon above, the ground rushing below, the feel of flying. Oh, how long it had been since she had felt his beautiful freedom, this release, this power of being in the air, of flying free without a cage to hold her down. She found she was laughing so hard tears sprung to her eyes, smiling to strongly her mouth hurt. Draco lifted them again sharply so that her back fell against his chest and suddenly the ground below them was replaced with trees. They soared up over the tall branches of the woods, and her heart soared with her body.

Mama

Papa

Forgive me

But the happiness did not last long, as it never does. There was a flash of light and suddenly Ginny's world slowed to a stop. She felt her hair flying around her head as it whipped around, nearly giving her whiplash, to see Blaise hit in the chest with a bright stream of red light. His eyes conveyed his fear as he tumbled forward, off of his broom, and began to fall, down, slowly, inch by inch, like a Muggle movie played frame by frame. His scream reached her ears long after it left his mouth it seemed, and her own mingled with his. Draco's broom turned slowly, their eyes locked, his filled with fear and disbelief. They spun for a moment before he righted them and went speeding back towards Blaise, who was still falling, growing perilously close to the ground. Draco's words in Ginny's ear, his cry of pain and disbelief, a simple word, "No" seemed to take an eternity to leave his lips. She reached forward, tried to reach her hand out to Blaise, but he was so far away, beyond her reach, beyond her help.

Out of sight  
Out of mind  
Out of time  
To decide

Time sped up to its normal rate, and as if it had to catch up on the moments it had lost, everything that happened next was such a furious rush, like a flash of lightening, that she could not process it all. Blaise smiled, his hand reaching up, but not to her, as if to heaven, or some angelic creature above that she could not see. She could hear what he said, though it could not have been more than a whisper to himself, and the words confused her. "Where we can be free." His eyes closed and hit the ground, his body landing with a sickening thud, his neck snapping, bones breaking, with a crack. She could almost hear the blood oozing slowly out of him, though he did not make any scream of pain, and she knew, though she could not believe, could not fathom, that in that instant he hit the ground he was already dead.

Do we run?  
Should I hide?  
For the rest  
Of my life

Ginny realized the loud screaming in her ears were her own mangled cries. However, time did not give her a chance to stop, to mourn, to understand, for the next moment a flash of light was headed at her. She felt numb, so she did not realize, until she saw the moon above her, that they were moving again, flying away from Blaise now, towards the sky, zigzagging to avoid the spells flying at them, gliding over the treetops in an attempt to escape. Flashes of red, then green, passed by them, above and below, some narrowly missing so she felt their heat on her face and arms. She heard foreign voices yelling behind her, two men arguing, but the words did not process in her mind. "You fool! You could have hit Ginevra!"

Can we fly?  
Do I stay?  
We could lose  
We could fail

"Blaise…" she whispered to Draco, choking out her voice. Draco continued flying and she turned back to see his face, steely eyes cold and emotionless, tears streaming down his cheeks. "D-Draco…Blaise…we have to…go back for…him."

In the moment  
It takes  
To make plans  
Or mistakes

Draco continued to fly, dodging around spells. "Draco?" He ignored her, refused to look her in the eyes. She grabbed his shirt, shaking him, trying to get him to pay attention, but it was as if she were as insubstantial as air. Ginny balled her small hands into fists and hit them against his chest. "Blaise!"

"He's dead, Ginny." Draco's voice was no more than a whisper, but the words were cold, cruel, like a slap in the face. She shook her head again. "Dead. We can't go back for him."

Thirty minutes, a blink of an eye  
Thirty minutes to alter our lives  
Thirty minutes to make up my mind  
Thirty minutes to finally decide

She looked behind Draco's shoulders, unable to meet his eyes, unable to face the inexorable truth, and gasped in shock and fear. It was not over yet. "Draco…"

"He's dead!" Draco yelled. "So stop it!"

"No…Draco…Tom…" she pointed behind them and Draco whipped his head around to see what Ginny had already discovered.

Tom was behind them, flying, _without a broom_. His face was angry, no, angry was not a strong enough word. Vengeful? Hateful? Livid? Irate? Draco faltered on his broom and was forced to look ahead again, narrowly avoiding a tree. "Be my eyes, Ginny!" he yelled over the rush of wind around them. As if she could look away.

Thirty minutes to whisper your name  
Thirty minutes to shoulder the blame  
Thirty minutes of bliss, thirty lies  
Thirty minutes to finally decide

The sight was both horrifying and awe inspiring. Tom sped towards them, his dark green cloak billowing behind him, his figure shadowy and evil as Death. She almost expected to see him with a scythe in his hands, swinging it at them. His eyes glowed red in rage, the two orbs pulling her under, making her heart beat in fear. Tom's black hair, dark as midnight, darker than death, whipped about his face. Most beautiful and frightening of all, however, was the purple-black glow of power around him, an aura like none she had ever seen or imagined before.

Carousels  
In the sky  
That we shape  
With our eyes

Tom thrust his arms open wide and pain engulfed Ginny like nothing she had ever felt before. Cruel images passed through her mind, death, destruction, war, bloodshed. She relived every emotionally and physically painful moment in her life as if she were truly there again. A scrape on her knee from when she fell as a child, the hurt that her brothers would not let her play Quidditch with them, the pain of Tom engulfing her soul, the throbbing of her first period in her gut, the horror and fear as her home was invaded by Death Eaters…

Under shade  
Silhouettes  
Casting shame  
Crying rain

"Ginny!" The sound of a voice screaming her name brought her back to the present. She realized she was barely still on the broom, Draco holding her up with one arm, the hand of his other clenched tightly to the handle of the broom. Had she slipped, fallen? Had she almost met Blaise's fate? "Ginny, fight back! It's just an illusion, it's just Tom doing this to you!"

Can we fly?  
Do I stay?  
We could lose  
We could fail

Tom. She glanced back and was terrified to find him frighteningly close. She could hear his cruel, dark voice over the wind. "You won't escape me, Ginevra! You can never escape me!" He pushed forward, looking like a vampire in his long cloak, his eyes red, his teeth sharp and glinting.

Either way

Options change  
Chances fail  
Trains derail

He was no longer the Tom she once knew, but rather a monster from the deepest pit of hell. Everything about him seemed to grow longer and sharper and fiercer before her eyes. His teeth grew in his mouth, sharpening like a demon's, his eyes became such a bright red the woods seemed to be coated in blood, his hair grew longer, darker, if at all possible, his nails extended to sharp talons. She shrank back in fear and clutched tightly to Draco, unable to look away from Tom in all his hideous, fearsome glory.

Thirty minutes, a blink of an eye  
Thirty minutes to alter our lives  
Thirty minutes to make up my mind  
Thirty minutes to finally decide

"Almost there!" Draco's comforting voice helped her to fight against the illusion threatening to take hold once more. What would Tom make her relive this time? Or would he create a new, terrible nightmare for her? "Ginny! Hold on tight! Tight!" She wrapped her arms around Draco's body and clung to him as if he were a part of her she would die to let go of. "C'mon…Don't leave without us…"

Thirty minutes to whisper your name  
Thirty minutes to shoulder the blame  
Thirty minutes of bliss, thirty lies  
Thirty minutes to finally decide

And then they were flying, a different type of flying this time, the broom under her body suddenly disappearing. She felt a tug at her navel threatening to throw her off into oblivion, and the force of it ripped Ginny away from Draco's body. Her arms traveled the length of his, she let out a scream for help, but they were spinning faster and faster, like children playing a game, and she knew she would lose him. She left long scratches down his arm in an attempt to grab hold, to not lose him in the chaos and be flung halfway across the country, and as one hand was tugged away from him, his other hand closed over her wrist in a tight lock. She clamped down onto his wrist as well, a trick she had learned from her father, his words repeating in her head. "That way, if one of you lets go, the other is still holding on. It's twice as strong."

To decide  
To decide, to decide, to decide

And then the spinning stopped. They were thrown to the ground, Ginny landing on Draco, her head smacking against his chest and his head smacking against stone. She heard his groan of pain but felt unable to move, the breath knocked out of her lungs by the impact of the ground. The sky spun above her and the ground below, despite the fact that she was laying down, as if she were on a rocking ship about to toss her over. Her stomach felt the same.

"D-Draco?" Ginny whispered, taking in a wheezing breath.

He answered just as breathlessly, his voice laced with pain. "Yeah, Gin?"

"Did we…survive?" Breathing was hard with the invisible weight against her chest.

"I certainly hope so."

"W-what?" she whispered, confused by the absurd comment.

He let out of a half-laugh, half-cough. "I sure hope death doesn't hurt this much."

Ginny tried to force herself up but he held her down with his arm laced around her chest. She didn't care that it fell against her breasts or that it made it harder to breath. "Don't worry, it doesn't"

He was silent for a moment. "Oh…right…"

To decide  
To decide, to decide, to decide


	19. London

A/N: I just want to say I am incredibly sorry for making you all wait so long for chapter nineteen. I was horribly sick over the weekend, so bad I could barely get out of bed on Saturday, then homework and sheer laziness kept me from completing the chapter. Gets down on her knees and begs for forgiveness from her readers. However, to make up for the long wait, I have made this chapter extra long, so have fun and please review! ;)

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Ginny was running, that much she knew. She ran and ran through a maze of mirrors, her reflection chasing her, the fog chasing her, his voice chasing her. She could hear Tom's dark laughter as he pursued her like a phantom, and she caught glimpses of him in the mirrors which stretched from the stone floor up endlessly into a black oblivion above where no stars dotted the dark sky.

The hall widened in front of her and Ginny stopped in a clearing. The mirrors created an octagonally-shaped dead end in front of her, but glancing back she could see him coming. Candlelight from thousands of candles sitting on the floor and floating in midair with nothing to support them reflected in the glass in front of her, shining off of her scared face, making her hair glow red like fire. She stepped forward, trying to find an escape through the illusion. A fog rolled in around her feet, enveloping her ankles up to her knees in a thick, grey mist.

"Ginevra" she heard her name whispered on the fog. She spun around in fear to find herself trapped. The passage she had taken was gone, and now she was stuck in these high mirrors like a cage, staring at her infinite reflections. Ginny thought she saw him behind her and she dashed away to collide with a mirror, where he leered at her. She twirled in circles, staring in fear and shock as he slowly closed in on her from all sides, his lips curled up in a cruel laugh, his eyes dancing red, the fire reflecting in them casting a devilish glow, his body surrounded by that purple-black aura of chaotic power.

"Get away from me!" Ginny screamed, curling her arms around herself. He continued drawing closer, achingly slow, the fog making it appear as if his feet never hit the ground, but rather he glided effortlessly above it, immune to gravity. "Stop haunting me!"

He grinned like an animal moving in on its prey. "You know I can not do that, Ginevra." He went silent and said nothing more, instead watched her slowly sink into madness with his face pulled up in a smirk.

She turned to the nearest mirror and balled her hand into a fist, crashing it against the glass. It cut into her hands, slicing them up effortlessly, and crimson poured down her arms. Ginny ignored the pain and turned to the next mirror, punching at it, making her knuckles bleed, until the glass lay in shards around her. She continued like this on all of the mirrors, ruby red tears streaming down her cheeks, and his face became angry, his mouth turning down in a snarl. "Stop this, Ginevra."

"Get out of my mind!" More glass, more pain, more blood, again and again, until only one mirror stood before her. He leered at her over her shoulder, eyes glowing red in fury, and she punched the mirror where his face was.

Ginny leaned her head against the frame of broken glass, chest heaving and hands throbbing in rhythm with her heartbeat, which she could feel throughout her body. She closed her eyes, trying to force herself to wake up, to realize this was all just a dream, but the intense agony in her hands kept her stuck there, in that nightmarish land, unable to escape.

She felt cold, lifeless arms wrap around her midsection. His breath in her ear, she could hear his smirk as he whispered, "Gotcha." Ginny screamed.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Ginny sat bolt upright in the small cot, trying to force air into her lungs. For a moment she couldn't breathe, but finally the air came in small, shaky gasps. Draco mumbled in his sleep and turned towards her from his cot across the room, his eyes opening and closing slowly as he tried to wake himself from his slumber to discover why she was screaming. Ginny glanced at her hands, which still ached with deep gashes, but there was nothing there. Her pale hands, silver in the moonlight that cut through the grimy window, were unscathed and clean of blood.

She lay back down and stared at the crack in the ceiling of their rented room at the Leaky Cauldron. Ginny couldn't have been asleep but an hour or so, for the glow cast by the moon had barely moved from its strip along the wall. Ginny heard Draco's deep breathing and knew he had fallen back asleep, which didn't surprise her. He must be exhausted from their flighty escape and his hard landing on the stone ground outside the doorstep of the Leaky Cauldron, not to mention, he had slept in a cell for the past few nights. She knew how hard it was to get even a moment's rest in a dungeon like that.

Ginny glanced over at Draco, observing his almost angelic face bathed in moonlight. His silver hair fell over his eyes and his lips parted lightly as he murmured to himself intelligible words. She had yet to figure out what to do about her new-found love for him. Was she just confusing the feeling with admiration, respect, and gratitude? Had those fleeting thoughts, that sudden realization of her feelings, been just a product of her fear of losing him? He could have been met with Alex and Blaise's fates if she hadn't stopped Tom.

Ginny's heart grew heavy and she felt as if there were a great weight on her chest. Alex was dead. Blaise was dead. The truth had yet to sink in. Shouldn't she cry? Feel some pain or remorse or depression? Yet, all Ginny could feel when she thought about them was numbness, nothing, an absence of pain or any other emotion. Did that make her a horrible person, because she couldn't mourn their deaths?

Ginny was shaken out of her dark thoughts by the sound of a crash downstairs. Yells echoed up to their room where they lay in darkness, Draco asleep, Ginny awake. She sat up again, trying to listen for the sounds, and her dream came flooding back to her. Tom had said he was coming to get her, and just before she woke up, he had. Had it been a sign? Was he toying with her mind? Or was he really coming for her, teasing her with the inevitable?

She heard more yelling and cursing, male voices, one she particularly recognized. Her heart grew cold, the hand of fear clenching around it, and she stood, running as quietly as possible to Draco's side. "Draco. Draco, wake up! They're here, Draco, they've found us!" He mumbled at first, but those words made him wake up in an instant, and he was on his feet in the blink of an eye, throwing on clothes and gathering his broom and their cloaks from the floor. They hadn't bothered to unpack, Draco hadn't even unshrunken their suitcase, and for that she was thankful, as it would save valuable time.

Ginny heard heavy feet on the stairs and people's shocked surprise when Death Eater's burst into their rooms. Draco didn't bother to put a locking charm on their door; it would be useless against trained Death Eaters. He threw his invisibility cloak over her shoulders and grabbed her up, running to the window.

Draco shoved open the grimy window and stuck his head out. With a curse he pulled it back in quickly. "So they learn. They've got men outside waiting for us." Ginny stared between the door and the window, fear consuming her and making it hard to think. They were trapped on both sides with no way out, and this time there weren't any air ducts they could crawl through or rebellious slaves to distract the Death Eaters.

"What are we going to do, Draco?" she whispered, her voice tiny.

He turned his head in the direction of her voice, staring past her, as she was invisible with his cloak on. "Stay under the cloak. Don't let anyone notice you, don't let Tom hear your thoughts."

"And what are you going to do?" she asked, reaching a hand towards him, though he didn't see it.

"I'm going to get their attention." His face was grim in the dark room.

"Draco, no! You can't do that, you'll get killed!" He ignored her and rushed her under the bed. "Hide there until I've made enough commotion that those Death Eaters waiting outside are distracted. Don't move, don't breathe, don't make a sound. When you're sure it's safe, get the hell out of here."

"But Draco!" she whispered from under the bed, poking her head out. "What if…what if they hurt you?"

He smiled at the floorboards beneath her. "I'll be okay, Ginny. Get into Muggle London and hide somewhere, I'll come find you."

Before she could protest or ask how he would possibly find her, she heard the door bust open. Draco looked up quickly, ignoring that she was there, and moved away from the bed.

"Where is she?!" asked a voice gruffly, and she could see Draco backing up towards the window, his broom in his hand.

"Hell if I know. She took off after we escaped."

"You're lying! Grab him! The Dark Lord doesn't want him killed!"

Draco thrust his broom out the window and climbed onto the sill, staring back at them. "Catch me if you can." He jumped, and Ginny almost screamed in fear before clamping her hands over her mouth. From where she was she could see only his hand as it grabbed onto the handle of his broom before he sped away, pulling himself onto his broom with his upper body strength alone.

The men ran to the windows and Ginny shrank away in fear. There were only three of them, but they were close enough for her to reach out a hand and touch their shoes. They muttered to themselves before running to the door and down the stairs, and she let out of a sigh of relief.

That's when she heard his voice in her head, like a devil tempting a sinner. "_Ginevra…where are you? I'm coming to get you_." Ginny shut her eyes tight, trying to block it out. She didn't know Occlumency, but she hoped if she ignored his voice and tried not to think of her hiding place, he wouldn't know where to find her. She began to sing in her head as she had done when escaping from Draco's manor, the concentration of the words helping to distract her. Eventually he growled and gave up on finding her mentally, instead deciding to search her out physically.

Ginny stood, trying to remember the next word in the song, and crept towards the door slowly. She glanced out for any Death Eaters. Two stood across the hall, leering into a room with their wands out, casting Unforgivables on the occupants. She blocked out their screams as she crept towards the small staircase, her feet light on the carpet.

A board creaked under her foot and she lightly lifted it, her eyes trained on the Death Eaters. They gave no evidence that they heard, so she continued, placing her foot down slowly and slightly to the left, her hand on the rail for balance. The board didn't creak when she put her full weight on it. She continued the achingly slow process, nerves frayed, all the while singing in her head to confuse Tom.

Finally she was down the stairs and making her way to the door. The downstairs rooms were more crowded, Death Eaters in their robes and masks filling every possible space. Ginny inched along the wall bit by bit, desperately repeating her mantra, sending it out like a prayer in the hopes that a Death Eater would not bump against her or Tom would not discover her.

She spotted Tom across the room, barking commands and orders, still trying to seek her out with his mind. For a moment her resolve slipped and her mantra faltered, and he glanced up, staring in her direction. She shut her eyes tight and began to sing louder, the song turning into a chant. Ginny dared not open her eyes as she grew closer to the door, her hands feeling for it, hoping a Death Eater had not decided to politely close the door after breaking into the Leaky Cauldron.

She felt the wall at her back disappear and stepped back. The cool night air brushed against her face like a sweet caress, the smell of sweaty men and moldy wood disappearing to be replaced with that of Muggle London. Never before had London's smog and pollution smelled as sweet to her as it did now.

Ginny backed up into the open air, not realizing how claustrophobic she had felt in the small room full of Death Eaters. She breathed a sigh of relief and looked around her. There were fewer Death Eaters out here, most of them drinking, slacking, or pissing in the bushes. None of them would notice her slowly slink by them.

Or so she thought. But when she glanced back at the open doorway, candlelight shining out of it, casting eerie shadows on the Death Eater's masks, her eyes met another's. Ginny felt an intense moment of panic deep in her gut. How could anyone see her under the invisibility cloak? The Death Eater was certainly looking at her, not through her, as he should be. How was this possible?

He stepped towards her through the crowd and she backed up some. If she ran, would she make it? Would he catch her? Why hadn't he struck her down or called out a warning by now? He reached a hand up to his mask and slowly peeled it off and she gasped at the pale, cold face underneath. Greasy black hair fell over his wrinkled eyes, his thin lips pulled down in a frown, his slender, potion-stained hands reached into his pocket and removed a crude, old wand. Ginny stared in fear and shock as her late potion's master, looking old and worn beyond his age, stepped out of the Leaky Cauldron towards her, his wand raised and pointed at her head.

Ginny took another unsteady step back and observed the way the rain poured off of his long, pointed, greasy nose like a waterfall going over a ledge. He ignored the rain that poured down on him and soaked his clothes; the only sign that he even saw it was the occasionally flinch when it landed in his eye. Ginny herself hadn't noticed the rain until she saw him soaked with it, and she glanced down at her invisible hand to find it outlined in fat raindrops. So that was how he had seen her. She was invisible, but not insubstantial. Wherever the water hit her it bounced away, creating an outline of her body in the heavy rain. Ginny's invisible form sneaking away would have been obvious to anyone who merely glanced in her direction.

She peeked up again at Snape, who had drawn much closer now. He was muttering to himself under his breath, a spell of some sort, though she could see no spark of light leaving his wand. How odd, what kind of spell didn't leave a trace? She had no time to wonder at that, however, for he finished casting his charm and she felt a warm fuzziness spread around her head, as if she had just drunken three warm bottles of Butterbeer in less than five minutes, and come to rest at her temples where it receded. Ginny glanced up at him in confusion, too afraid to speak, only able to shake her head in fear and silently beg him to have some mercy, to not betray her, before he grabbed for her arm, finding it after a few tries, and dragged her away from the Leaky Cauldron and into a dark alley.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Draco tossed Ginny under the bed and shot up like a Firebolt as the door flew open, three burly Death Eaters forcing their way into the room. They had their wands out and trained on him in a second and he slowly eased away from the bed, refusing to look at it or even acknowledge its existence, for fear he would give away Ginny's hiding place.

"Where is she?" One of them asked, glaring at him and raising his wand.

Draco shrugged and began to back away towards the window. "Hell if I know. She took off after we escaped." He tried to make his voice sound nonchalant, but he even could notice the small quaver of fear in it. The window was at his back. It was small and he would have to duck to get through it, but hopefully he could escape before they shot him down.

"You're lying! Grab him! The Dark Lord doesn't want him killed!"

He tossed his broom out the window, watching as it slowly began to flutter to the ground, and pulled himself up on the sill. "Catch me if you can." Draco waved at them before jumping out the window.

He was airborne for a moment with nothing to hold onto, falling quickly to the ground which wasn't very far away, and that scared him, but he kept his eyes on his broom, and his outstretched hands and the handle finally met somewhere in the middle, forming to each other as if he belonged. He grinned to himself. He hated his father and thus anything his father bought for him seemed tainted, but he had to admit, this was the best broom he had ever known. It seemed to have a mind of its own; it flew to him, without command, a phenomenon he hadn't even hoped to occur. The sudden tension in his arms and the force of his jump sent him swinging on the handle on the broom like a Muggle child on monkey-bars, but he ignored the burning in his arms and pulled himself up, his lean muscles straining, until he was situated. Draco leaned forward and shot off like an arrow away from the Leaky Cauldron, dodging the spells and curses meant to bring him down. Flashes of green caught his eye and he was especially careful to avoid those, but he smirked to himself, knowing whoever sent the Killing Curse his way was going to get into a lot of trouble.

Unfortunately, the Death Eaters learned quickly. They were already on brooms and chasing after him. Some of them were good flyers, but their brooms paled in comparison to his. Besides, Draco had been the best Quidditch Player in Hogwarts, no matter what those bloody Gryffs boasted about Harry Potter. Draco was better, Potter was just damned lucky. He chuckled to himself, though, for he never would have guessed, in a million years, that he would be fleeing from Death Eaters to save the life of not only a Gryffindor, but the youngest and only female Weasley, princess of Gryffs and the late Harry Potter's friend. He wouldn't have believed, either, that he would be having the time of his life doing it.

Draco glanced back at the Death Eaters behind him. He was quickly losing them, outmaneuvering them and their spells like a pro. If he hadn't been forced to become a Death Eater, if his father hadn't already mapped out his life, if this stupid war would never have started, if Harry Potter hadn't gotten himself killed, Draco might have become a professional Quidditch player. But dwelling on what might have been had never been his motto, so he returned his thoughts to the present. He could shake them alright, but they would only return to the Leaky Cauldron, where Ginny was. What he needed to do was disarm and dismantle them, pick them off until there weren't many left, then go back and find Ginny with a tracking spell and a strand of hair from her clothing. Draco rummaged around in his robes for his wand.

It wasn't there. He began to feel panicky, his hands flying to his pockets, but none of them revealed his wand to him. Where had he put it? Why couldn't he find it? Realization dawned on him, hitting him like a ton of bricks. Draco glanced up to find a spell burrowing at him, his eyes widening in shock. He couldn't move, couldn't think, could only remember, like a dream, his father disarming him, his wand flying out of his hand and over the ledge and down to the gardens below. He didn't have a wand. Draco was trying to fight a group of Death Eaters without a wand. The spell was before him, he couldn't move out of the way in time, and all he could do before it hit him was utter "Oh shit."

Draco went barreling to the ground, the force of the spell flying him off of his broom. Thankfully, he hadn't been more than five feet off of the ground and he had had enough intelligence to tuck his body into a tight ball, so his shoulder took the brunt of the impact. It hurt like hell but he didn't think any bones were broken. Draco pushed himself up, ignoring the pain in his shoulder, and dodged another spell coming his way. He didn't see where his broom had fallen, but there was no time to worry about that.

Draco was now broomless and wandless, so he chose the only option left for him. He ran. Draco fled down a dark side-alley, robes billowing behind him, his shoulder screaming in pain, and down another and another. The streets and alleys began to blur before him. He needed to find someplace to hide where they couldn't see him from above. But where?

There was a huge cathedral in front of him. If he could get into there, maybe they would follow him in. If he forced them to dismount from their brooms, then he would be on a more even playing ground. Draco ran for the front door of the place with all his might. He could here them bearing down on him, getting closer, but the door was just before him.

Locked. Of course, why wouldn't it be locked? Normally in this situation he would cast a simple Alohomora, but without a wand to aid him, Draco figured he would have to break in like a Muggle. He picked up a rock off the ground and threw it at the stain glass window, feeling a short-lived pang of regret. That window was really pretty, and it looked expensive. It was too bad. Muggles couldn't just fix a window with the swish of a wand like wizards. They would have to replace it with a whole new one.

Draco ducked into the broken window, being careful not to cut himself on the glass. He narrowly avoided a stunning charm in the slow process, but he was through and they were still behind. _Just don't let them get the smart idea to wait outside all the exits._ He ran through the huge cathedral, looking for a way out. Draco could hear them getting closer, could hear the heavy door creak open, could hear their heavy footsteps on the stone floor. Draco ducked behind a pillar of angels, their stone faces shrouded in shadow, and peeked out.

"Split up. Find him. Man all the exits, don't let him escape."

Draco almost cursed, but a familiar voice kept him quiet and tuned into their conversation. "I will watch the roof, just in case he becomes suicidal enough to consider jumping." Draco almost grinned. He would know his favorite teacher's voice anywhere, and he would definitely recognize the sharp tone in it, the warning of sorts, the secret code he spoke with the fluctuation of his words. The roof. Draco had to get to the roof.

His eyes scanned the shadowy corners for any stairs or doors that looked like they might lead to stairs. The nearest door was about four meters away and cast in shadows. The only time he had to worry about exposure was when he had to duck between pillars.

Draco pulled his hood up over his head, concealing his blonde hair and pale skin under it. He tucked his hands into his sleeves and checked that not a single sliver of bare skin was visible, as that would certainly give him away. Then Draco made a mad dash for the door.

He skirted around the moonlight hitting the floor, hid behind pillars, ducked into shadows, crouched under pews, all the while keeping his eyes on the eight or nine Death Eaters turning over tables and ransacking the place, more for the fun of it than to find him. The door was before him in less than a minute and he was pulling it open and hiding inside.

A room. Draco was in a tiny, closed room no bigger than a privy. He would have thought it _was_ some ancient privy had the small bench had a hole in it and straw on the ground. The only decoration in the closet-sized room was a cross over the bench and a window of sorts with a screen over it, looking in on an identical room. What the hell was wrong with Muggles? What purpose could this possibly serve? Why couldn't they just make normal sized rooms with windows and damn exits!  
Draco heard breathing behind him and he quickly crouched down, staring out a crack between the door and the wall. He couldn't close it now, the Death Eater was right in front of him and staring straight at him, though Draco doubted the man could see him in all of the shadows and darkness. The Death Eater had stripped off his mask by now and revealed the face of Gregory Goyle, one of Draco's old cronies and a complete moron. The boy was drawing closer to the door, the folds of his chubby forehead crinkled in confusion, his hand reaching out for the handle. Draco's breathing stopped.

"Whoah boys, look what we found here." Goyle's huge head turned slowly and a grin spread on his face. "A pretty cup made out of gold. Think this will get a nice fortune in Knockturn Alley?"

"A chalice, you moron," Draco muttered to himself, rolling his eyes. "It's called chalice, not a cup." Draco personally wasn't religious, he had no qualms about breaking into a cathedral to save his hide, but even he wasn't low enough to steal from a church. Goyle began to move away from the door towards where the Death Eaters were ogling over their goblet, and Draco seized the opportunity. He slowly creaked the door open, eyes scanning the room, and spotted another door halfway across the room. It wasn't marked and could lead to another one of these stupid small broom closets, but he would have to take the chance.

Thankfully, this time, luck was in his favor. Draco found himself in a tower of sorts, a round stone staircase leading up into the moonlight above. He could make out the shape of a huge bell in the top of the tower, and four windows on each wall revealed the night air to him. Grinning, Draco made his way to the top of the tower.

The view was spectacular. From up here he could see all of London, some of it bathed in twinkling lights, some of it shrouded in darkness. He could see the huge Thames River to his right and Big Ben in the distance. Had he not been running for his life and worried sick about Ginny, Draco would have immensely enjoyed the sight.

Draco leapt over the small ledge and onto the roof below. It sloped down on either side but there was enough room for him to walk one step in front of the other on the top of it. Gargoyles leered out over the streets, looking away from him, and for that he was thankful. They were incredibly creepy looking in the middle of the night on top of a really high, narrow strip of roof trying to escape murderous Death Eaters.

Draco didn't need to look for Snape. As soon as he was out of the shadows of the bell tower, his old potion's master was hovering before him on his broom. "Finally. Here, Draco, you dropped your broom. There's no way you'd make it out of here alive without it. Here's the plan-"

Draco caught his broom and twirled it behind him, lounging out on it. "Snape, I need your help," he interrupted.

"Yes, that's fairly obvious."

"I mean it. This isn't about me, I'm not worried about myself, I'm worried about Ginny."

Snape lifted an eyebrow. "Then the Weasley girl is with you?"

Draco shook his head. "That's the problem; I left her back at the Leaky Cauldron. See, I figured if I could create a distraction she could escape under my invisibility cloak and then when I got rid of these Death Eaters I could pick a piece of hair off of her clothing and use it to track her with."

"I know what a tracking spell is, Draco, no need to lecture."

"Yeah, but I didn't realize it until I had to defend myself. Snape, I don't have my wand! I lost it back at the Manor."

Draco heard Snape's hiss of disappointment and anger. "What have I taught you about never losing your wand?!"  
"I know, I know, but my father disarmed me and in my rush to escape I didn't have time to get it back!"

Snape hovered in midair silently. "How are you going to find her now?"

"Couldn't you-"

"No Draco! You know the Dark Lord has the power of the Ministry at his fingertips-he has a complete list of every spell cast. If I should ever fall under suspicion, which is very likely, he will know I cast a tracking spell to find her and will wonder why that did not result in her capture. Tracking spells are nearly impossible to shake, there would be no way for her to escape one, even if she portkeyed or apparited. He would eventually put two and two together."

Draco knew, but he didn't want to accept it. "You could run away with us. We could really use your help, Snape."

Snape shook his head roughly. "You know I have nowhere to run to and nothing to run for. I am his slave, Draco, and I won't try to change that. Running would be foolish with the high position I am in now in his ranks. I won't take the chance." Snape must have noticed his angry expression. "I know you think I'm a coward Draco, but to each his own."

"Then what? How will I save her? How will I even find her?"

"I will go back to the Leaky Cauldron and see if I can find her. She can't be that hard to spot, stumbling around in an invisibility cloak. In fact, I would be surprised if she hasn't already gotten caught. That was a foolish plan Draco! If you really intend to protect this girl, you must never let her leave your side!"

Draco nodded quickly, swallowing hard. "If you find her, you will take her to me?"

"Of course. It is not a question of if, one girl can not be that difficult to find."

"Every Death Eater in London is looking for her." Draco muttered. "She must be a bit difficult to find."

Snape smiled. "Only because usually you come up with better plans than this. Where will I meet you?"

Draco glanced around him, his eyes landing on the huge clock. Was it four am already? "Big Ben. I'll be waiting there."

Snape nodded and put a hand on Draco's shoulder. "Draco…You've always been like a son to me."

Draco placed his hand over Snape's, tears coming to his eyes. They were close, like friends, but his teacher had never been the emotional type, and his sentiments touched him. "You've always been more of a father than Lucius ever could be."

Snape's eyes widened and he nodded, his face becoming professional again as he pulled his hand away. "Don't get all sentimental on me, now Draco. I will have her there in less than an hour, and if I don't show up…well, let's hope that doesn't happen." Snape flew away from him, landing on the ground and rounding up the Death Eaters. "He isn't here, he must have escaped, but it doesn't matter, the Weasley girl wasn't with him. Let's go back to the Leaky Cauldron and regroup."

Draco waited until he heard the cracks of their apparitions to breathe, and waited even longer before he mounted his broom and started heading for Big Ben. The sky let loose, rain pouring down on his body and over all of the city, like a sheet of diamonds twinkling in the city lights. The giant clock chimed fifteen past the hour, the nostalgic, comforting gonging reverberating through his ears, and London's beautiful buildings twinkled in the reflection of the Thames River like huge clusters of stars. His thoughts on Ginny's wellbeing, Draco saw none of it.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

"Calm down, would you Weasley?" Snape muttered, pushing Ginny's hood off of her head. She stared up at him in fear, trembling from more than just the chilly autumn rain. Snape ran a hand through his greasy hair and glared down at her.

"Wh-what was that spell you cast on-on me?" she asked between chattering lips.

"A spell to protect your thoughts. I designed it myself and made it untraceable. However, a muffling spell is not untraceable, so I suggest you keep your voice down unless you want to be caught."

Ginny's eyes widened in surprise. "Then you're helping me. Why?"

"I'm not helping _you_ Weasley, I'm helping Draco. He told me to find you and deliver you to him." Snape looked annoyed. "We can't apparate without being caught and I'm not foolish enough to take to the skies with Death Eaters swarming the streets. We will have to go on foot."

"Where, exactly, are we going Professor?" She asked, trying to keep up with his rapid strides.

"To Big Ben. And don't call me Professor. I'm not your teacher anymore, Weasley."

"Then what should I call you?" She noticed his jaw ticking in annoyance at her questions.

"Snape will do. Now put your hood back on and stay close to me."

Ginny nodded and kept quiet as they walked. Her clothes were soaked through and the cloak was hard to move in, its wet trail tangling around her legs and slowing her down. But she didn't complain or fall behind. She would not be a burden to the only man willing to help her find Draco in the huge city. Finally, however, she grew uncomfortable and anxious from the silence. "What exactly does the spell do?"

"What are you rambling about now, Weasley?"

"The spell that you cast on me, what exactly does it do?"

"I already told you, it protects your thoughts."

"But from what? And how?"

His voice was starting to lose its calm monotone. "From the Dark Lord, you fool. It's designed to protect against normal Legilimency, however you two have an incredibly unusual and strong connection. The spell can normally last days at a time, but I'm afraid for you it will only last a few hours, and I plan to be rid of you before then. I can't have the Dark Lord knowing I helped you."

"But won't he hear my thoughts afterwards? Won't he be able to tap into those memories?"

"I have a theory. I believe the more distance you put between you and the Dark Lord, the weaker your connection will become. Am I right?"

She thought about it. Whenever she was far away from Tom she could have a few moments of peace, but in close quarters, like in his room together, their bodies pressed against each other, his emotions were so strong they overwhelmed her. She nodded but, realizing he couldn't see, answered "Yes."

"Then I suggest when you and Draco meet up, you get as far away from this city as fast as possible. Get deep in Muggle England, maybe even leave England and just go somewhere in Muggle Europe. Do not return to the wizarding world unless you are certain there will be no spies to give away your location."

"Do you honestly think he'll go to that much trouble?"

Snape was quiet. "I think you already know the answer to that question…The Dark Lord has an obsessive personality. You could see it with Harry Potter and you can see it now with you. He has to have a specific person to obsess over, to hunt, to hurt, to kill. It is his way. It would seem our new Dark Lord has appointed you his obsession."

"Fantastic," she whispered sarcastically, and when she glanced up she caught the ghost of a smile grace his lips.

"We're here," he said finally, staring up at Big Ben, the giant clock leering over them, casting them in shadows. He stopped walking and looked around, his eyes scanning the darkness. "Draco?"

"Where is she?" Ginny heard from her left, and she glanced over and up to see Draco landing gracefully on his broom. "I was sitting up by the six. I didn't see her with you…you did find her…didn't you?" Ginny's heart sped up at the concern she heard in his voice, the sudden fear for her safety. Did he care for her that much?  
"Yes, of course I found her." Ginny pulled off her hood and cloak, bundling it up in her arm so that she was visible to him. Draco's face pulled up in a huge smile and he breathed in a sigh of relief, running to her side and wrapping his arms around her waist. Ginny found herself blushing at the sudden heat of his body wrapped around hers and the way he was staring at her face. It didn't help any that they were both so wet from the rain that their clothes were sticking to their cold bodies and their hair to their faces.

"I was so worried. I'm so sorry Ginny, that had to be the stupidest plan ever! I was afraid I would never find you, especially when I realized I didn't have my wand-"

"You don't have your wand?" she asked, staring at him in confusion. He nodded grimly. "But…we're going into Muggle England…without a wand…without any protection…"

"We have my cloak and broom, Ginny."

"I've never been in the Muggle world alone and never without a wand at my side. What if…what if they have guns? What if there are crazy people?"

"Miss Weasley, I suggest you not worry about that, very few Muggles actually own guns, and besides, you do still have your magic, even without a wand. That can never leave you."

"But…perhaps we should sneak back into the wizarding world to get wands made-"

"That is much too foolish you child!" Snape sighed and tried to calm himself. "You cannot return to the wizarding world ever, not unless the war is ended or you are amongst your allies."

Ginny was trembling in Draco's arms now and he held her tighter. The rain picked up and began to pelt them, some of the fat raindrops turning into small pieces of ice. "I'm scared."

"Yes, well, it's not like your House was known for bravery or anything," Snape muttered sarcastically, though she supposed he meant it as a joke. Ginny didn't find it very funny. Snape's sudden hiss of pain, however, quickly broke the uncomfortable silence. He clutched at his arm where the Dark Mark was glowing. "The Dark Lord has noticed my absence…he is calling. I won't keep him waiting. Get out of my sight and out of this city as soon as you possibly can…Good luck." With that, he was gone.

Ginny clutched Draco closer in the dark of the night, the whole world suddenly frightening and shadowy. Big Ben, whom they had left behind some time ago to find a place to stay dry and rest, yet could not escape the leering shadow of, chimed five am, the sound like the tolling of a death sentence echoing deep into her bones. The cold rain fell hard on their heads and forced them to postpone their fruitless search for a place to sleep and take cover under the shelter of an awning in front of a small, creepy looking shop. Ginny could see, through the grimy windows, shrunken heads, herbs and potions, and strange talismans. It looked more like something she would see in Knockturn Alley than in Muggle London. She shivered in her wet clothes, despair sinking into her heart like the cold autumn rain.

But the dread overcame her when she heard the door open behind them with a creak and the tinkle of a bell, and a raspy, old voice whispered, "Finally, you've arrived. Come in, children."


	20. Shattered

A/N: Well, sheer laziness has kept me from updating until now, but here it finally is, chapter twenty. I had a bit of a struggle deciding whether or not to put the song "All I Ask of You" from the Phantom of the Opera in here, but finally decided against it. By the way, I got all of my tea leaf symbols from an article about tea leaf reading on this website called "So you wanna?" So if you wanna know how to read tea leaves, that's where to go. :P

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Draco and Ginny whirled around simultaneously, their faces revealing surprise. An old woman stood behind them, her dark face weathered and wrinkled. She was short, about as tall as Ginny, with once-black hair streaked with gray. Her skin was sun-spotted and dark, her origins were probably Indian, if Draco's guess was correct, and she had empty, unseeing eyes, clouded by blindness.

Draco gulped and put himself between Ginny and the woman, though the she looked pretty harmless. She was leaning on a cane, her small body frail and weak, not to mention she was blind as well as old. He figured if worse came to worse, he and Ginny could outrun her pretty easily. She smiled up at them, her face wrinkling even more, but she had a pleasant tone in her voice when she offered, "Come in, come in, out of the rain now, children."

Draco glanced back at Ginny, who lifted her shoulders in a shrug, her face as perplexed as his. They followed the woman as she waddled into the building slowly, glancing around them. Draco realized the room that they had been looking into from the street was a shop of some sort. It had interesting wares, though, shrunken heads, incense, potions, herbs, glass balls, tarot cards, and an assortment of other mystical items. He wondered if they had somehow ended back up in Knockturn Alley by accident, but he knew it was impossible. No, this place was definitively Muggle, it just seemed Muggles had their own interest in strange magical items and enchantments.

"Excuse me…but, who exactly are you?" Draco asked, his voice questioning.

She turned her head to them with a smile, and even though she was blind, he felt as if she were looking right through him, into his soul. She opened her mouth to answer but was interrupted when a lady not much older than Draco stepped out from behind a beaded curtain, a soapy dish in one hand, a rag in the other, her eyebrow lifted at the woman. "Grandmother, who are our guests?"

The woman didn't glance back at her granddaughter, but instead answered, "This is Ginny and this is Draco. They're friends of mine."

Draco blanched at the use of their names and backed up slightly. He was sure he didn't know this woman, much less was her friend. His arm went around Ginny's body protectively as the lady, looking to be about twenty, strode over to them, a warm smile on her lips. "You guys do know her, don't you? My grandmother's a bit loony, thinks she's a prophet of some sort. She tends to go up to random strangers on the street and invite them in, claiming she knows them. Scares the dickens out of our customers."

Draco glanced between her and the woman, his mind churning. He wanted to know how this woman knew their names, perhaps she really was a seer, and besides, maybe they could get a free meal and a warm bed out of this deal if they played their cards right. He nodded at the woman. "Yeah, we're old friends."

Her face lit up in a grin. "Oh, okay then. Well, make yourselves at home, I'll go make some tea."

Draco nodded again and waited until she was out of the room before turning to the old woman. "How do you know us?"

She smiled at them and motioned with her hand, going through another door with beads hung in front of it. Draco and Ginny followed, Draco in front of her, his hand on hers the entire time. He would keep her close in case they needed to run. The room that they were in had an odd, blue lighting to it, although Draco wasn't sure where the source of the it was, and was smoky with the strong scents of incense burning in the corners. The old lady sat down in a chair in front of a table with a crystal ball on it, and Draco and Ginny sat opposite her expectantly, though she didn't say anything at first. Finally, Draco cleared his throat, and it was as if she had been snapped out of a trance. She smiled up at them in surprise as if meeting them for the first time.

"Ahh, yes, I suppose you wonder what you're doing here and how I know you." Draco nodded and she continued. "I've been expecting you for some time. You see…I'm a prophet of sorts. A seer as you call them in your world. There are other names for my gift, but you get the point." She clasped her weathered hands on the table. "I Saw you in my dream last night, extraordinary children you are, though I will play only a small role in your journey, pity."

"Then you are a witch? Could we make use of your wand, by any chance? We need to unshrink our suitcase, in the very least."

"Oh no, not a witch, though I do know of your world. I was invited to attend Hogwarts but refused the invitation, preferring to live in my own, Muggle world, as you call it. No wand for me, no spells. Everything magical I have made myself or attained after years in this business."

"Then can you at least tell us what will happen next? What we should do or where we should go?" Draco was getting impatient for answers, but the more the old woman talked, the more he began to believe she would be of no help to them.

She merely shook her head. "I believe…some things need to be left alone. I have only glimpses of your adventures, some of it might have already occurred, some of it may or may not. I will give you my advice, however, children. Stay the day here, rest, and then tonight, in the dead of night, leave this city and flee. Ahh…until then, however, that spell is wearing off of you."

Ginny glanced up in surprise, her mouth open in a question, but the woman silenced her with a smile. "I could Sense it on you. It's dying and soon your thoughts will not be your own, so I have enchanted this for you ahead of time with my own magic and aid from a wizard friend whom I trust very much." The woman tottered to a table and picked up a box which Draco recognized as a secret lock box, the kind with hidden compartments that could only be opened by pressing certain points. These were the kind of boxes used only for incredibly valuable, or dangerous, magical items, as they were etched all around with curses to ward off anyone who opened them incorrectly.

The woman pulled out a necklace and stood before Ginny, holding it up. It was completely unextraordinary looking, a small, delicate silver chain with a pendant on it no larger than a galleon. The pendant was simple, round like a shield and engraved with tiny designs around the edges. In the center was an orb about the size of a playing marble cut in half. It looked old and worn, like something you would find at a flea market, some of the silver spotted and dark from age.

Yet, it was beautiful in its simplicity. The orb was a tempestuous, stormy sky full of dark bluish-purple clouds that swirled and gathered and dispersed, occasionally lit up by lightening. It seemed to glow with a mystical light of its own, casting Ginny's pale face in a purple blush.

"What does it do?" she asked, staring at it in both awe and trepidation.

"It protects your thoughts from any who would wish to intrude on them. Go on, put it on her now, Draco."

Draco glanced at her in confusion. "Why? Can't you-"

"Don't ask questions, just do it." The woman scolded, shutting Draco up. He blushed and turned to Ginny, gazing at her innocent face in the dim lighting. Draco ran his hand through her fiery hair, brushing it out of her face and over one shoulder, and took the necklace in his hands. There was no clasp so he lifted it over her bowed head and settled the pendant against her chest, where it came to rest between her breasts.

"Now, never take that off child, keep it on everywhere, or your thoughts will be open to any who wish to read them."

"But how does it work?" Ginny questioned, but she was interrupted by the younger woman returning with towels in her arms.

"I see grandmother gave you one of her little trinkets. Don't tell me she told you it has some special powers or something? Honestly grandmother, I doubt these children are interested in your tales of magic and goblins. They're soaked and tired, let them drink their tea and shower and sleep."

The old woman nodded with a little smile, not at all offended by her granddaughter's scolding, and shooed them out of the room. The girl handed them towels. "We have two showers, one upstairs and one downstairs. Ginny can use mine upstairs and Draco, you can use the one in the bathroom to your left. I've put a pair of my pajamas in the bathroom upstairs for you Ginny, hopefully they'll fit, but I'm sorry to say I have nothing for you to wear Draco." Draco shrugged nonchalantly and took the towel, Ginny following suit. "When you get done I'll have your tea ready and the bed made. You'll be sleeping in my room, I'll sleep on the couch here, don't object now, Draco, you're guests and it would only be proper, and the bed is large enough for the two of you. Now shoo, go shower and warm up."

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Ginny stepped out of the steamy bathroom, rubbing a towel through her hair. The small nightgown the woman, Layla, had given her clung to her moist skin embarrassingly, and she wished it covered more of her body. The girl had insisted, with a wink, that Draco would like it, so Ginny had reason to believe she had picked out the smallest one possible. It was incredibly short, not even reaching her knees, and loose on Ginny, whose body was much thinner than hers, making it slink immodestly low on her chest.

Ginny gazed down at the strange amulet that rested between her breasts, warm against her skin. She had fallen in love with it the moment it had gone around her neck, and now it was as close to her as an old friend, despite being inanimate. As Draco put it around her neck she felt as though a great weight were being lifted from her shoulders and mind. Suddenly her thoughts were clearer. A strange white noise in her mind that had been there for so long she hadn't noticed it until she was left in its absence, was gone. She felt as though she could think without fear of Tom hearing her thoughts, and she knew she had become invisible to his searching mind reaching out for her across the buildings and houses of London. Ginny had audibly sighed in relief at the feeling of peace.

The sound of Draco's voice brought her back to the present. She glanced up to find him sitting on the bed in just his boxers, the rest of his wet clothes strewn over the Muggle room heater. His eyes were wide with surprise and his mouth open as he stared at her. The way he looked at her, the same way Tom always looked at her, caused butterflies to flutter in Ginny's stomach and she shyly wrapped the damp towel around her shoulders, covering her cleavage. One glance at Ginny's blushing face made Draco look away quickly, his face as pink as her own. "Wh-what did you say?"

Draco glanced back up and then away. "I asked what you wanted in your tea. They gave us honey and sugar and milk, I wasn't sure which you liked…" He trailed off, staring at the two steaming cups of tea on the tray that rested on their bedside table.

"Honey will be fine." Draco nodded and spooned honey into her tea, handing it to her. Ginny took it along with a biscuit, sipping at the warm liquid with a little sigh of pleasure. She sat on the bed beside Draco, a good meter of space between them, being careful not to let their knees hit. They drank their tea in an awkward silence, both too embarrassed to break it.

Finally, after fifteen long minutes, Draco lowered his empty tea cup in his hands and stared at the leaves in them. "Look, a book. That means I have questions that need answering," he joked, reminiscing on their old batty teacher Professor Trelawney.

Ginny glanced in his cup with a lifted eyebrow. "Looks more like a lock. Obstacles ahead for you."

Draco took her cup, their hands brushing, and glanced in it. "Oy, you have a heart. Love."

She leaned in closer, squinting at the mess of tea leaves in her cup. "No, no, it's a globe. Travel."

"I say an eye. Caution." He leaned his head closer, a small smile at his lips, his voice playful.

She giggled. "It's definitely a drum. There's going to be changes in the future…" Ginny stopped talking when she realized how close his face was to hers, his lips hovering just a few centimeters away. His mercury eyes were half-lidded and lips apart, and she could smell the mint from his tea on his breath. Draco's silver-blonde hair fell into his face and his lips were tinted pink and she had never before realized how absolutely gorgeous he looked without a shirt on, the water trickling down his chest.

A knock at the door made them both jump, and Ginny's head collided with Draco's chin. They flew apart, faces red, as Layla poked her head in the door, a small smile at her lips. "Oh sorry, I didn't interrupt something, did I?"

Draco stood, brushing his hair out of his face, his expression becoming very serious and professional. "N-no of course not."

Layla grinned. "Right, well, I just came to take your tea cups." She picked up the tray and walked to the door. "Behave now, children," Layla said with a wink at Ginny before closing the door behind her.

Ginny stared at her hands as the awkward silence between them resumed. She could feel his eyes on her, his gaze making her face turn red in embarrassment, and Draco walked slowly back towards the bed, each step seeming to take an eternity. Finally he came to kneel before her, gazing up at her down turned face. "Ginny…" He bit his bottom lip, his eyes darkening. "There is something I have to tell you. It's about…your brother."

Ginny's body visibly shuddered at the word and she looked away from him. "They are dead." Draco took her hands in his. "Please, tell me they are dead. Before you say anything else, assure me they are dead."

Draco nodded, his brows knitted in confusion and sadness. "Yes, they're all dead, as far as I know."

"Good. Then whatever you have to say, it's not important."

"Ginny, it is! I…they are all dead now but…I saw him, when he died." Ginny closed her eyes and took a shuddering breath, her body trembling, trying to suppress the sobs.

Draco continued on, his words coming out in a rambling rush. "I wanted to save him, really, I did. I was running towards him. I was thinking about you, and I barely knew you then! I thought if I saved him he could rescue you. You wouldn't have to live through that hell. I…I couldn't stop the Death Eater…that killed him. I watched him die…I'm sorry. I wish I could have saved him…I wish I could have saved you." Draco lowered his head to her hands, his lips brushing against her fingers as he whispered so quietly she could barely here. Ginny stared at a stain on the wall, trying to freeze over her heart, to harden it, so it would stop aching. "I didn't tell you because…because you looked so broken…I didn't think you could handle to know…"

Ginny's eyes were empty, cold, when she glanced back at him. He was staring up at her in expectation, unsure of her reaction. "It doesn't matter," she whispered cruelly, biting out the words like ice. "They are dead to me. All of them."

Draco's eyes widened in shock at her harsh words. "How can you say that?"

Ginny looked away from him. "They all died to me that night." She offered him nothing more.

"Ginny." She felt his hands cup her chin and he turned her face towards him, forcing her to look into his eyes. "Tell me."

"It was my birthday…" she choked out, eyes glistening. "They attacked on my birthday."

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Ginny bound down the stairs, a bright smile on her face. Today was her birthday, and Tom was thankfully being polite and quiet, for once. He helped her pick out her outfit and didn't make a big fuss about how bored he was being stuck in the house for days on end. She was wearing her new dress, the one her mother had bought for her while they were shopping, a pretty purple sunflower dress that flowed around her knees and arms. She had her hair back in the flower pins her brother, Ron, had given her for Christmas the year before. On her wrist was Harry's bracelet. They weren't together anymore, Harry had broken it off before he went off to fight, and in all honesty, she thought that was for the best. Maybe when he came back they would get back together, but for now she was fine with living at home being tutored by her mother while the war went on far away.

"Don't look, Ginny!" said a voice behind her, and two hands came around her eyes. Ginny giggled, trying to turn her head.

"Fred! Why can't I see?!"

"I'm not Fred, I'm George."

"Don't tease me brother, I could always tell you two apart easily."

He sighed. "Yeah, you got me, it's Fred. But don't think you can distract me, I'm not going to let you peek. Your birthday cake is a surprise, Gin-Gin. C'mon, I'll lead you." He guided her down the stairs, making sure she kept her eyes shut tight, and into the small, crowded kitchen. "Sit here."

Ginny sat, eyes still shut, a large smile on her face. The setting sun was shining in through the window, casting a red glow over all of the house, its warmth heating up her excited, innocent face. Her grin widened as her family began to sing and she opened her eyes, her face lighting up in a smile as she counted the red heads and noticed there were more than usual. All of her brothers, or almost all of them, were home: Percy, Fred, George, Charlie, as well as her mother and father. She hadn't expected to see Harry, Ron, and Hermione, so she wasn't disappointed at their absence. The youngest Weasley understood that they were out fighting and couldn't be bothered to come to her party. Ginny was, however, upset to see Bill was absent, but she didn't allow her smile to falter.

Tom was nowhere to be found, which didn't surprise Ginny. He didn't like big crowds of people, especially her family, as he found them too loud most of the time. He usually only made himself visible to her when she was alone, which was alright with her. If she didn't have to try to focus on him teasing and taunting her as well as seven other conversations going on at once, as there always were when her family was together in one room, then that made her life a little bit easier.

"Blow out the candles, Gin-Gin!" Ginny closed her eyes again, trying to think of a good wish. In these times, with the war raging full-blown, sitting alone in the house with her worrying mother while her brothers and father went out to work or to fight, there was a lot to wish for. But it didn't take long to make her wish. Her family's safety was above all the most important, and so that's what she wished for, that they would all be safe and happy.

Ginny blew out all sixteen candles, but was surprised when they flickered back to life before her eyes. She blew them out again and again, until she was light-headed, and still they came back. "Fred, George!" she scolded as the twins laughed at her expense.

Her mother reprimanded the twins and dipped the candles in a cup of water, extinguishing them. Fred and George laid a gift in front of her, their grins making her weary. "Go on, open it, Gin."

Cautiously she unwrapped the gift to find an assortment of merchandise from their store. "All of our newest products, some still untested, too. If they ever do reopen Hogwarts, you can take our place as the troublemaker of the school."

Ginny laughed and opened the next present, from her mother, to find a beautiful necklace with a heart-shaped locket. Inside was a miniature picture of her entire family. Charlie ruffled her hair. "So that you know we're always with you, always watching you." He laughed and cut a piece of the cake for himself. "Hopefully that will keep you out of trouble with any boys."

Ginny glared at him and put the necklace on. "I think it's nice."

"You don't have to keep that picture in there if you don't want to, Ginny. Feel free to put a boy's picture in if you like, hmm." Her mother smiled and winked at her, handing her another parcel.

Ginny smiled and unwrapped it, revealing a hand-sized Sneakoscope. Charlie tossed it in the air and caught it. "It's nothing fancy, but in these times, there's nothing wrong with a little bit of extra precaution, right?"

She nodded and thanked her brother with a hug. "Let's just hope I won't ever need it." As if on queue, the thing began to whir with light and noise, vibrating on the table. The room went silent and still as everyone stared at it. "Certainly…it's just a malfunction?" she whispered, swallowing hard and glancing over at her parents.

Her mother jumped to action, turning into the living room and bustling over to the giant grandfather clock. The clock held the names of each family member on one of the hands, as well as Harry and Hermione's, and beside their names were small round pictures of their faces. Harry, Ron, and Hermione's were still set at "Traveling," as they had been for the past few months, and Bill's was at "Work." However, Ginny and the rest watched in fear, crowding around the clock, as their hands moved in unison from "Home" to "Mortal Peril." It had been set so that Mortal Peril always overrode any other location on the clock, for they could be anywhere when their lives were in danger.

Her mother's hand flew to her heart and her brother Charlie pulled his wand out of his pocket, turning to the door. "There must be a Death Eater attack coming."

Her father nodded. "Man all the doors, boys. Molly, you and Ginny hide. Go now!"

Her mother nodded and grabbed Ginny by the arm, tugging her out of the room. "Downstairs, now, come Ginny. We must get downstairs." She rushed her down the stairs to the cellar, where they had stores of food along the walls as well as some stray cleaning potions and extra storage. Her mother ran to the rug on the floor and lifted it up, revealing a door in the wooden floor. Ginny remembered hiding there when she was younger from her mother or brothers, but it had been so long she had forgotten about it. Her mother pulled the heavy door up as Ginny heard a crash upstairs and loud voices yelling. "Mum, what's happening?!" she whispered loudly, fear in her voice.

Her mother just shook her head and ushered Ginny down into the small space, closing the door over her head. Ginny had to crouch in the tiny space, her legs pulled against her chest, and crane her neck to see up between the cracks in the floor. She heard the door open and saw her mother pull out her wand, pointing it at the shadowy men in the door, garbed in dark robes and masks. Death Eaters. Ginny's heart began to race and her breath caught in her throat. There were at least four or five of them, but she could hear fighting upstairs still, so she knew there were more. "Look what we have here, boys," drawled a familiar voice, one that Ginny recognized as Lucius Malfoy's. "Not exactly a looker, is she, but it's been so long since I've touched a woman besides my wife. How about we have a little fun with her, yes?"

Ginny had to clamp her hand to keep from crying out as they disarmed her mother and threw her to the ground. She shook her head, backing up as far against the wall as she could, and stared in horror, unable to look away, as they ripped her mother's clothes off. Molly fought, punching and kicking and biting and cursing them, but they outnumbered her and were far stronger. Ginny almost threw up as one of the Death Eaters undid his pants and climbed on top of her mother while the others held the woman down. The more she fought, the more they beat her and raped her, taking turns with her, until she was so beaten up she couldn't even sob anymore. She refused to look at Ginny, too ashamed and afraid for her life, and Ginny could do nothing to help her but crouch in her hiding space and watch.

Finally, they stopped. After Molly's screaming died down, Ginny realized that the sound of fighting upstairs had also ceased. Had they killed her brothers and father? They lifted her mother up by the hair and made her kneel in front of them. "The Dark Lord has condemned you, blood traitor, to death for your actions helping Muggles and Mudbloods and for fighting on the side of the Order of the Phoenix during the war."

Her mother spit blood at Lucius Malfoy, her face filled with hatred. "The Dark Lord can kiss my ass."

Lucius snarled and slapped her hard, the sound ringing in Ginny's ears. "The Order will fall! Harry Potter will fall! The Dark Lord will win this war and the Death Eaters will rule the wizarding world!" He held his hand out and a Death Eater handed him his cane, the one Ginny had seen him with so many times, despite the fact that he had no limp to speak of. The handle of it was a snake, which she found fitting for him. Lucius smirked and unsheathed a thin, hidden sword from it. It gleamed in the dim lighting of the cellar. "Do you have any last words, Weasley?"

Molly lifted her chin, glaring at him. "Go to hell."

He lifted the sword and brought it down on her neck, slicing her head cleanly off. Ginny bit her hand so she wouldn't cry out and stared in horror as the head rolled across the floor, landing face down against the floorboards. Her mother's lifeless eyes stared down at her as her blood sprayed out of her bleeding neck, dripping between the cracks and onto Ginny's horrified face.

"Let's get the hell out of here." Lucius muttered, turning away. "Are the others dead?"

"Yes sir, but we did not find Harry Potter or his friends."

"Who wasn't in the house?"

"Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Bill Weasley, and Ginny Weasley. We searched from top to bottom and didn't find any of them. We can only assume they are out fighting on the battlefront."

"Ginny Weasley?" Lucius asked, sounding confused. "It doesn't seem like them to send their only daughter to the fields to fight. Are you certain she was not hiding?"

"We searched everywhere, sir."

Lucius nodded. "Very well. Where else are we to search for Harry Potter?"

"Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, next."

Their voices began to fade and Ginny curled into a ball, sobbing openly, unable to contain the tears anymore. She felt filthy with her mother's blood and heavy with the thought that she had done nothing to prevent her rape and murder. And now all the rest of them were dead? How? How could this have happened? Just a few hours ago she was opening gifts and smiling and joking, the war temporarily forgotten. She couldn't fathom the fact that they were dead.

"Stop. Silence." Lucius lifted a hand, his head turning slightly into the room. He closed his eyes and strained his ears, listening, as if he had heard something. The Death Eater turned and walked back into the small cellar, his footsteps heavy and steady, sounding like the knocking of death at the door. Ginny stared up between the cracks as his shadow covered her, trying to suppress the sound of her sobs.

"What is it, sir?" asked a Death Eater in confusion.

Lucius didn't answer, but instead continued to pace the room slowly, glancing into the crates and behind shelves, any place a small person could fit. The other Death Eaters watched him with confused glances and shrugs.

Finally he turned back to the door. "It must have been nothing." He strode towards them purposefully, and Ginny let out a sigh of relief.

Lucius froze, whipping around, his face pulling up in a smirk. Ginny backed against the wall in fright as he strode towards her, throwing the rug out of the way and pulling up the door, staring down at her. "Hello, Weasley."

She screamed as he reached down into her hiding place and grabbed the front of her dress, pulling her up out of her hiding hole and into the room. He dragged her, past her mother's headless body, past the Death Eaters, up the stairs, kicking and screaming, trying to get away. The other Death Eaters followed with smirks on their faces, licking their lips and gazing at her in lust. "Sir, can we have a go with her?"

"No. Silence." She struggled against him as he dragged her through the kitchen, staring in horror at her brother lying facedown in a pool of his own blood. Fred lifted his head weakly, barely still alive, holding out his hand towards her. He tried to whisper her name but his voice was too weak. His jaw looked to be broken and his face was bloody and battered.

"Fred! Fred! Let me go! Let me-"

"Avada Kedavra!" Lucius yelled, the green light filling the room and hitting her brother, sending his lifeless body flying against the wall. Ginny couldn't breathe, couldn't think, as Lucius yanked her out of the door and the Death Eaters followed, apparating away, but not before they lit her house on fire. The house that she had grown up in, her home, the only place she had ever felt safe, she watched as it burned, all of her memories and dead family members going up in flames.

As she watched her childhood home burn to the ground, Ginny whispered the words that would keep her secret hidden, that would silence her voice forever. Nobody heard, not even Lucius, nobody knew besides her and Dumbledore and Tom, not even her family members. Her voice grew fainter and faded until it was nothing, and her words, chanted in an ancient language, were carried away on the wind along with the ashes of her life.

They apparated away from her burning house. The Death Eaters took her to a cell in Azkaban, where they tortured her, unable to understand why she wouldn't speak. She received news, only to lower her spirits, news of Dumbledore's death, the fall of Hogwarts, where the resistance had been forming and preparing to fight, Harry's defeat. As she wasted away in that cell, stripped of everything but the clothes on her back, growing thinner and losing weight, slowly dying, the Dark Lord grew stronger, his Death Eaters won battle after battle, until they took over the entire Ministry of Magic. They created a new government, Voldemort as the leader, and enslaved the resistance, those that weren't killed. Ginny learned all of this as she sat in her prison cell, alone, hearing only the voices screaming, seeing only the darkness, smelling only the blood and death. Tom's voice slowly died with her until she thought perhaps he, too, was gone, leaving her all alone in the world.

Ginny died. Her old life ended, her innocence was shattered, and her world was destroyed. She was reborn to a new world, a darker one, where evil prevailed over good, where the world was ruled by a power-hungry dark wizard, where nobody was safe, not even in their own minds.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Ginny stopped talking, and the room went silent, the sounds of their breathing and her occasional hiccups seeming to echo off the walls. Draco bit his lip as he stared up at the girl that he loved, tears staining her face, trying her hardest not to cry in front of him. She trembled with the effort and his arms ached to hold her, to comfort her, but he was afraid, with her so distant and retreated inside herself, she wouldn't let him.

But he still felt he had to do something. "Ginny," he whispered, reaching a hand up to cup her face. Draco ran his thumbs under her eyes, wiping the tears away, and rested his forehead against hers. "Ginny…I'm so sorry. Please…please don't cry. I don't like to see you in pain."

"What would you have me do? Smile and pretend that everything is perfect?" Her voice sounded harsh and bitter, not at all like the Ginny he knew.

"No. I think sometimes it's good to cry, to let go of your emotions. And sometimes, it's better not to dwell on the pain, but to distract yourself from it, to ignore it. If you think about it too much, you'll just tire yourself out. Sometimes…it's better not to cry." She nodded and sniffled, looking weak and innocent again. He sighed and brushed her damp hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear.

Draco cupped Ginny's chin in his hands and pulled her face closer. His fingers traced her soft, trembling lips. Draco guided her face down to his, his eyelids fluttering closed, until he could feel her breath against his lips. The boy glanced up at Ginny's face, staring into her dark, half-lidded eyes. "Ginny…I…I love you."

Her eyes snapped open at those words and she yanked away, staring at him in confusion. "Wh-what?"

Draco swallowed hard, trying to ignore the pain of her rejection. "I said, I love you."

"No…Draco, no. Please don't do this to me. I don't…I can't…" She shook her head, at a loss of what to say.

"You don't have to say anything to me, Ginny. You don't have to tell me one way or the other. I just want you to know."

"Draco…please don't…don't complicate things." Ginny ran a hand through her hair, still shaking her head.

"Why does it have to complicate anything? I'm just telling you how I feel. That doesn't change anything between us."

"That changes everything between us!" Ginny stopped, wincing at her own harsh, loud voice. "I'm sorry…just please…don't start saying things like that."

Draco pursed his lips in defeat and nodded, lifting his hands in the air in surrender. "Okay, sorry…so I guess I can't get you to kiss me then, huh?"

She snorted and rolled her eyes in exasperation. "No."

"But…do you, you know, want to kiss me?" He glanced up at her from under his eyelashes with a little smirk. "I mean, you looked like you were going to. Now my pride is kind of hurt." Ginny rolled her eyes again and lifted her eyebrows. "Oh, come on, Ginny, you can't say you didn't want to kiss me at least a little bit." He grinned at her. "Don't lie now!"

Ginny sighed in defeat, looking annoyed. "Yes, okay, I wanted to kiss you."

His grin widened and he leaned back on his haunches. "That's all I needed to know. Now, I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted and this bed looks really nice." Draco threw himself down on the bed for emphasis, bouncing a few times before patting the spot beside him. "Care to join me?"

She crawled in beside him, pulling the covers up over her chin and clicking off the lamp by the table. Draco looped his arm around her waist and Ginny turned away from him with an annoyed, "Good _night_, Draco."

The blonde boy chuckled and pulled her back tight against his chest, his breath in her ear. "Good night, Ginny," he whispered before kissing her ear. "I will be here to protect you, always."


	21. Heart to Heart

A/N: I profusely apologize for the long wait for this chapter. My life has been a bit chaotic lately, what with finals coming up soon, and I've been very busy. Also, I would never want to give my readers a poorly written chapter just to get it out on time. So, although you had to wait for it, I worked really hard on it and I hope you all enjoy and please review!

I used HP Lexicon and an online conversion called convert-me to figure out the money. 13 pounds is a little more than $25 US dollars, for all us Americans who don't know.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

With food in their stomachs and clean clothes on their backs, Ginny and Draco stood at the train station late in the evening the day after they met the old seer. She had insisted it would be best if they left the city as quickly as possible, and Draco agreed. Although she had no wand for them to use, she had done all she could to help them with little trinkets of her own meant for protection, healing, and fighting. One in particular was a tarnished old silver dagger that she claimed would slay werewolves. Ginny knew werewolves required no more than a Killing Curse just like every other wizard to be killed, but Draco took it anyway, explaining that a dagger, silver or not, could be useful if they didn't have a wand to protect themselves with. She didn't like the thought of them being forced to protect themselves rusty blade against wand point, and Ginny hoped it would never come to that.

"Here you are, Draco, I know you want to travel light, but take this bag with you. It has food in it." The old woman handed him a heavy backpack stuffed to the brim, and Draco slung it over his shoulders.

"Oh, and I've put some clothes in there for you, Ginny," Layla added with a smile. "Don't object, I was planning on getting rid of them anyway. I outgrew them years ago, so hopefully they'll fit your thin frame." Ginny thanked her with a small smile and a nod. "It's a shame your train is leaving today. I would have liked to have you spend more time with my grandmother and me."

Draco, Ginny, and the old woman had decided it best to not let Layla know about the real reason they had to flee the city in the middle of the night under cover of darkness. She knew nothing of their world and believed all of her grandmother's predictions to be rubbish, so they decided to keep her oblivious by making up a story about Draco and Ginny going to visit a relative in Liverpool. To explain why they had showed up on their doorstep looking like drowned rats and with nothing but the clothes on their backs, Draco and Ginny had made the excuse that their luggage had been stolen off the train they took to London.

"Oh, here, and you'll need some money until the police catch the man that stole your luggage. Until you get it back, try to stretch this." The old woman placed some paper into Draco's outstretched hands, which he and Ginny stared at in confusion. Paper money? Ginny had heard of Muggles using paper money before, but she had thought it was just a joke. "It's only 13 Pounds. It's not much, but hopefully you can make do."

Draco nodded and tucked the paper into his pocket. "Thank you. It will be very helpful."

"Are you sure you two don't want to wait until morning to leave?" Layla asked with a frown. 

"We're sure. We need to be getting on our way, my uncle will be expecting us in two days, and our train is about to leave. We appreciate all the help and thank you for buying our train tickets."

Draco and Ginny handed the man their tickets, who took them with a smile and saw them on board. The windows were tinted and it was too chilly to pull them down this late at night, so they said their goodbyes and the entrance and watched the women from inside as they turned and left, walking out of their lives. Once they were gone, Draco grabbed Ginny's hand and pulled her up, heading towards the back of the train.

"Where are we going, Draco?" she asked in confusion, trying to keep up with his quick stride.

"We're getting off this train."

"But how will we get out of the city?"

Draco glanced around them, making sure nobody was looking, and opened the back door of the train, which led out onto a small balcony overlooking the tracks. He stepped down the stairs and helped Ginny down before dragging her quickly across the tracks. "We're taking another train."

"I don't understand. I thought we were going to Liverpool?"

He nodded without looking back at her. "We were. Until I saw those Death Eaters talking to the coachman. He'll tell them he saw two teenagers board a train to Liverpool. We'll be exposed."

Ginny gasped and looked back. "But, I didn't see any Death Eaters."

"They were well disguised as Muggles, but I recognized their faces. They'll search for us on the train to Liverpool and we'll be headed in the opposite direction. Hopefully they won't discover the switch we made until long after we're out of London."

Draco stole a glance around and boarded the train. Because it was so late at night the coach helping the boarding was only at one entrance at the front of the train, leaving this one at the back wide open and unmanned. They quickly snuck on and made their way down the aisle, finding an empty compartment easily and shutting and locking the door. Ginny and Draco silently sat in the seats opposite, staring at the walls, barely breathing, barely making any noise, for fear the Death Eaters or the coachmen would discover them sneaking onto the train. Ginny didn't relax until the whistle blew and the train began to move, and Draco long after.

"Are you hungry?" He asked, reaching in his pocket. Ginny stared at him in confusion, wondering why he would ask the question at a time like this. "I'm starving."

He pulled out a candy bar and opened it, breaking a piece off and handing it to her. "Where did you get this?" She had seen Layla pack their bag with food, most of it fruit and granola bars, and hadn't seen a single candy bar, much less an expensive one with rich chocolate and almonds in it.

"I swiped it while we were walking through the food car." He said it nonchalantly with a shrug.

"But, I didn't see you take it."

"I would hope not. I would make a horrible thief if someone caught me stealing, wouldn't I?" He grinned lazily and took a huge bite, dramatically groaning and tilting his head back in a large smile. "Chocolate. I haven't eaten good food in forever, much less chocolate."

She lifted an eyebrow. "You were only in that cell and on the run for all of three days."

He sat up with a thoughtful look on his face. "I suppose you're right. It feels as if it's been a lifetime since that night."

There was a heavy silence as they both thought of the changes in their life since then. Finally, Ginny broke it. "Where did you learn that?"

"Learn what?"

"How to be such a good thief. It's not as if you ever needed it. You've always been rich."

Draco nodded and stared out the window, even though there was no scenery to watch go past in the dead of night. "That's a fair question. My father. He taught me how to be a spy."

"A spy? As in, on the Order of the Phoenix?"

He shook his head. "No, at least, those weren't his original intentions. As you know, we already had Snape as a spy, and besides, this was long before the Dark Lord came back to power. No, since I was old enough to walk, my father taught me how to spy on Death Eaters."

"But, why would he need to spy on his own group?"

"Well, it's quite simple really. He never cared to worship the Dark Lord. He wanted to _be_ the Dark Lord. He never expected Voldemort to come back to power like he did when we were in Hogwarts."

"But he still wanted you to spy on the Death Eaters? I thought they didn't regroup until after Voldemort came back."

"Not formally. They didn't go around wreaking havoc. But they were still out there, weak, small, disorganized, but still there. They don't have to have a leader to exist, they just have to have one to get anything done. Lucius wanted to be that leader. In order to do so, however, he would have to have had a spy to make sure nobody would defy him taking power. He had plans for me since before I was born."

"That's horrible." Ginny pulled her knees up to her chest and set her chin on them, a small frown playing at her lips. "So he taught you how to steal?"

"Steal, sneak, pick locks, be invisible. He taught me everything…It's kind of funny, actually."

She frowned, forehead creased in confusion. "How in the world is it funny?"

"Well, now I've gone and used everything he taught me against him to run away with his slave. Ironic, isn't it?"

"Your slave."

"What?" He glanced up from where he was staring out the window, as if unsure of what she had said.

"I am your slave, not his."

Draco stared at her, mouth agape, and stood. He towered over her where she sat in her seat curled up. "Ginny, you are _not_ my slave. I…I would never own another person. It's disgusting and wrong! I don't care what he thinks, _nobody_ can own you." He took a deep breath, unclenching his hand and trying to calm his anger.

"Tom thinks he owns me," Ginny whispered quietly to herself.

Draco kneeled in front of her, brushing her hair out of her face. He took her face in his hands, gazing into her downcast eyes. "He's wrong. _Nobody_ owns you."

"Maybe he's right. He's been with me for so long…In a sense he's a part of me now…He loves me, you know." She wasn't sure where all of these disjointed thoughts were coming from or leading to, but she still felt a need to express them.

"Love? He's the Dark Lord. He can't feel love. He's just obsessed." Draco's voice was dark and mocking and Ginny shook her head.

"No, he does. He truly loves me. That's why he hates me so much. I make him weak. I make him feel things he doesn't want to. But he still can't stop feeling the way he does. I'm a part of him, under his skin, in his head, just like he is to me."

Draco wrinkled his forehead perplexedly as he mulled over his thoughts. Ginny waited for him to speak, and when he did, she wished he hadn't. "And do you love him?"

She stared at her hands, unable to answer the question. "What do you mean? I…I…" Ginny's laughed, the noise sounding dead to her ears, as if he had made a bad joke. "Of course not…He's..."

"You do, don't you?" She could hear the accusation in his tone of voice, the disgust, the confusion. After all, how could anyone love the Dark Lord? With everything he had done, everything he had put her through? How could someone feel this unnatural attraction to him, his abnormal, twisted love for him?

"Don't judge me!" She stood, voice harsh, tears springing to her eyes. Her fists clenched by her side. "Everyone judges me! I know it's wrong, I know it's perverted and unnatural, but I can't help it. He's a part of me. He loves me. He understands me. Nobody understands, nobody could understand! I know it's horrible but I can't help it!"

"Ginny-"

"No! I've had to keep it a secret ever since I was twelve years old! A secret from my friends, from my family, from my teachers, from the whole damn world! He was the only person who knew me, knew all of my secrets and dark thoughts, the only person who accepted me for who I was, who I didn't have to worry about judging me! The only other person who knew was Dumbledore and even he judged me! I could see it in his eyes, the way he feared me, feared what I could do, feared that I would bring Tom back. He never cared for me, he only cared for protecting the world from me. You could never understand, so don't criticize me!"

"Ginny!" He grabbed her face again and gave her a small shake, staring into her eyes. "Please, calm down." She glared at him, bitter tears of anger streaming down her face. "You have a right to be mad at me. I judged you, and I'm sorry, I had no right to. I guess I just don't like the thought of my woman loving another man."

Ginny blushed, her shoulders shaking in a half-sob, half-laugh. She looked away in embarrassment at his blatant words. "Your woman? I thought you said you didn't own me?" Her lips twisted up in a half-hearted smile.

"I don't." He smiled as well, his thumb stroking her face. "I just wished I owned your heart like he does."

Ginny gasped and raised her eyes, meeting his. He wore a lopsided grin, curved up on one side of his lips, a mix of a genuine smile and his trademark smirk. The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them. "If I'm not careful, I think you'll steal it right out from under his nose."

His grin widened. "Well, I am a good thief." He had that look in his eyes again, that desperate longing, that affectionate warmth. He leaned his head down, his lips moving in closer to hers, his gaze making it impossible for her to pull her eyes away. Those stormy eyes had her hypnotized and all she could see, hear, feel, was him. His thumb was stroking her cheek again while his other hand tangled in her red curls, pulling her face closer to his.

The train jostled, making their car jolt, and the two lost their balance, falling onto the chair. Limbs entangled and Ginny felt her elbow collide with something soft as Draco's head bumped with hers. They fell off the chair and to the floor with a simultaneous "Umph" from the collision.

It took Ginny a few seconds to collect herself and get her bearings, and she realized she was lying in Draco's lap, her body entangled in his, their faces inches apart. His lips were by her ear and he was breathing heavily, a small moan issuing from the back of his throat.

"Ginny, your elbow is in my ribs." Well, that shattered the moment. Ginny blushed and quickly moved her weight off of him, sitting up. She fixed her clothing before reaching out to help him up, but he just shook his head. "You knocked the wind out of me."

Oh. That was why he had been breathing so hard. She was embarrassed to have thought it had been because of the closeness of their bodies. Ginny rubbed the sore spot on her forehead. "That's okay, you gave me a good whack to the head, so we're even."

He grinned and took her hand, pulling himself up into the seat. Ginny sat down opposite him again, playing with the loose hem of her shirt. Was the silence awkward or was she the only one thinking that? She glanced up to find him staring at her, a smile playing at his lips. "What?"

"You look tired." 

She was sure that wasn't what he was going to say, but she shrugged it off. "I couldn't sleep very well last night."

He frowned, head tilted to the side. "Why not?" Draco leaned back on his elbows, stretching out his body, and his knees collided with hers. He let them rest their, their knees bumping in unison with the train tracks. 

"I…I've never slept in the same bed with a boy before. It was unnerving."

Draco chuckled at her expense, that lazy grin back on his lips. She found she was beginning to like his smile a lot. "Really? I slept like a baby."

"Well, you've slept with girls before." Ginny recalled the epic stories she had heard of the Slytherin sex god. 

He lifted an eyebrow. "Is that what you think? That I'm a man-whore?"

She blushed, feeling embarrassed at how quickly she had jumped to conclusions. "Well, it's just, I heard stories," Ginny defended.

Draco leaned forehead, his elbows on his knees, his face again close to hers. "Maybe you shouldn't believe everything you hear," he whispered.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have…"

Draco shrugged. "It's okay, Ginny, calm down. I'm not offended. It's not like I did anything to stop those stories from spreading. The girls who started the rumors were usually ones that wanted to sleep with me, like Pansy, and were angry when I wouldn't. They still told all of their friends, though, that I was this great sex machine that they had wrapped around their fingers. It was amusing at first and then just annoying, but I didn't care what anyone thought about me, so I didn't bother to correct the rumors."

"Then you didn't sleep with over twenty women in less than twenty-four hours?"

His eyes bugged. "Where did you hear that one!"

"I heard about these crazy Slytherin parties with massive sex orgies."

"From?"

"My brothers."

Draco laughed. "Well, there's your answer. I think if I had a little sister I would tell her those stories too to make her think twice before she thought about getting involved with the big bad Slytherins."

"Then…you _did_ have those kinds of parties?"

Draco grinned mischievously and leaned in closer, glancing around as if he had a big secret to tell. "Oh yes," he whispered scandalously, "right after we finished eating little children for supper."

She giggled in embarrassment, covering her face with her hands. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have believed my brothers."

He lounged back, shrugging, and watched her laugh with an amused look on his face. "Nah, it's okay. You'd actually be surprised to learn I'm a virgin."

Ginny stopped laughing, looking at him in disbelief. "No way. You're Draco Malfoy. You could have had any girl you wanted in school."

"Could have…except I didn't want any of them. I mean, don't take me for a saint, Ginny, it's not like I was saving myself for someone special or anything. I just never cared enough about any of the girls that called themselves my friends. I never let anyone get close enough to me, except Blaise, to feel comfortable around. Sex is way too emotional, besides. Even mindless sex. It would force me to make myself vulnerable to someone, and I couldn't allow that."

Ginny gazed at Draco with new eyes. "I'm surprised. I guess you learn something new about people every day."

"Yeah, I guess so…To be honest, Ginny, I'm kind of glad I didn't give myself away to anyone else."

She swallowed hard, face turning red, wondering if she was thinking what he was saying. "Why is that?"

"Because now I've found someone I want to save myself for." 

The way he looked at her made it obvious whom he was talking about, but she still found herself asking, "Who?"

"You. I want you Ginny."

Those words were too uncomfortable, said to seriously, held too much meaning. She didn't want to deal with this now. She suddenly wished he hadn't said those words, hadn't complicated their relationship with these emotions. He was so blatant, so ready to accept his feelings for her, and didn't seem to care how embarrassed it made her. "Draco, I've never…I'm not…I can't…"

He put his fingers to her lips. "Ginny, calm down. I'm not asking you to have sex with me. That would be quite a leap, seeing as you won't even kiss me." His fingers played across her lips and she didn't move them away. "I'm just saying I'm glad I saved myself. I'll wait forever for you to decide if you want me or not."

She took a shuddery breath, eyelids fluttering, her lips trembling against his fingers. They traced her lips slowly, as if he was memorizing the way they felt. "You'll wait forever…what makes you think I'll give in and say yes?"

His smirk was back in place. "Nobody can resist my charm, Ginny." He mockingly puffed out his chest and squared his jaw, making her giggle. Content with her reaction, Draco slumped forward again. "I guess I don't. But I can still try."

Unsure of what to say, Ginny awkwardly stared at nothing in particular. Realizing the conversation was over, Draco stretched with a groan, pulling his fingers away from her lips. She suddenly felt cold and bare at their absence, but she pushed down the disappointment. "Well, you look tired. Go ahead and sleep. I'll get a map and figure out where we're going from here." Ginny nodded, curling up in the seat, which was stiff and bare. "I'll see if they have any blankets and pillows to use. Usually they're courtesy of the train ride, but they might end up missing a set if there's enough room in the bag."

"How much money do we have, anyway, Draco?"

He leaned his head against the wall and stared at the ceiling, lips moving. "If I calculated it right, 13 Pounds is about 2 Galleons, 10 Sickles, and 5 Knuts."

"That's not very much."

He shook his head. "No, it's not, but we'll stretch it."

"You surprise me every day. You're the rich, spoiled Malfoy telling me, a girl whose been sitting in a cell for over a year and who grew up poor, that we'll be able to survive off of just 2 Galleons, 10 Sickles, and 5 Knuts."

He shrugged. "People surprise you. And I'm not a Malfoy anymore, Ginny. My father denounced me and I my family name. There's no use in complaining about money when I've refused my inheritance. Now, go to sleep. I'll be right back."

Ginny nodded and lay her head down, using her arm as a pillow. The rumble and bump of the train dozed her, and when Draco came back, it was to find a deeply slumbering Ginny. He covered her with a blanket and lifted her head, sliding the pillow under it. She awoke slightly, murmuring incoherently, before she fell back asleep. Map sprawled out on his lap, Draco didn't even glance at it as he leaned back in his seat, watching her sleep.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Tom screamed in frustration and slammed his hand down on the table. Damnit! Why couldn't he find Ginevra! He had been at it for hours, sitting in a dark room, isolated, trying to search her out with his mind. It was like trying to find a butterfly in a dark room. Occasionally he could feel the flutter of air against his hands, even the soft wings in his palm, but as soon as he tried to grasp her, to take her in his clutches, she flew off.

This must be some kind of spell. It was the only possible explanation. There was some sort of protection encasing her mind, defending her from him. The same way magnets repelled, every time his mind came close to entering hers, he was pushed away by some unknown force. She didn't know Occlumency; that was out of the question. He would still be able to enter her mind, but she would have to consciously fight him off. There were some spells that could protect the mind to an extent, but it wouldn't be as if she had been wiped off of the world completely. He could only deduce that she was wearing some sort of talisman with magical powers.

He couldn't even use a tracking spell to find her. Every time he tried his wand just spun in confusing circles, not pointing in any general direction. This was a nuisance. Someone must have helped Ginevra; she wasn't intelligent enough to evade him on her own. Could it be that the Malfoy boy was smarter than he appeared? Had he devised this little scheme?

There was a knock at his door. Tom's jaw ticked and he released an annoyed "What!"

Lucius stepped into the room, bowing low to him at the waist. "My Lord Voldemort, have you found her yet?"

"You know I bloody well haven't found her yet or she would be here, right now, in my clutches!"

He nodded again. "A tracking spell perhaps?"

"Useless. She's protected from that too, and I can't do one on your son. Tracking spells only work if the tracker is incredibly close emotionally to the person they are searching out."

Lucius considered this. "I could attempt, but I think it would be ineffective. My son and I hate each other."

"Do you know his wand core? Can you perhaps trace his most recent spell?"

Lucius shook his head. "No. I disarmed my son. In the process, he lost his wand on the lawn. I found it while I was cleaning up the Zabini boy's dead body."

Tom muttered a curse and lounged back against the wall. He willed the lights to turn on, bathing the room in a warm glow and exposing him. He had been sitting on the floor on a cushion inside a circle of symbols drawn strategically to heighten his senses in the hopes of discovering Ginevra easier. It was no use.

"Then we have tried everything we know. We will just have to search her out the old-fashioned way."

"And that would be what, My Lord?" 

"Gather Death Eaters, have them sweep the city. Scan all of the transportation out of the city. Have them question anyone that looks suspicious by any means possible, but do not draw Muggle attention. We are not yet ready to be exposed to Muggles. Send Death Eaters to any locations from her past where she might be."

Lucius bowed. "May I speak my mind, My Lord?" Tom nodded and gave a lazy wave of his hand, not bothering to look up. "With all do respect, I understand your need to find her, however, the other Death Eaters are not yet comfortable with taking orders from somebody so…"

"Young?" Tom smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Inexperienced? New?"

"Well, yes, My-"

"Lucius, I know more than Voldemort would ever have. Perhaps I have not killed as much as he, perhaps I have never led an army before, but I know how to rule. I have sat idly in a diary and then been trapped in a girl's mind with nothing to do but educate myself for the past 60 years."

"Yes, but, you lack experience-" Lucius was silenced by a clenching force closing around his throat, even though nobody stood in front of him.

Tom smiled, eyes glowing red, and turned his head to the man who was quickly losing air. "You forget your place, Lucius. I know your secrets, I know you wish to have my position, to rule over the Death Eaters as their Dark Lord, but you cannot. I _am_ Voldemort. I am _better_ than Voldemort. I know the Death Eaters are not comfortable with me. I know I do not have their complete and unwavering devotion. I know they wish to get on with this war, to quickly capture the wizarding and Muggle worlds, but I also know that war, revolution, takes time. It takes patience. And I, Lucius, have more patience than any man that has ever walked this earth.

"You are afraid I will become obsessive with Ginevra the same way Voldemort was with Harry Potter. You are afraid she will be my downfall. You have every right to fear that, I am obsessed with her, but I also know how to rule, to lead. I know how to win a war. While Ginevra is my highest prerogative, you can rest assured your Death Eaters will not know that. They will still have their fights, their raids, their orgies and kills. They will get their fun. Ruling the wizarding world and enslaving mudbloods will be their utmost priority.

"Because you see, Lucius, unlike Voldemort, I can multitask. I can wage this war and hunt down Ginevra at the same time. I can be the Dark Lord and still have my own personal vendettas and obsessions. And when Ginevra is again at my side, you will not only have a Dark Lord, but a Dark Queen. Rest assured, Lucius, you will never have to worry about stepping up to the throne and taking my place."

Tom released Lucius, who fell to the ground, panting for air. "How does it feel to be the one on the receiving end of the torture, Lucius? How does it feel to grovel and beg? I hope you enjoy it, because you will be doing quite a lot of it if you forget your place and try to dethrone me."

Lucius Malfoy nodded, clutching at his throat, and scrambled backwards out the door. The comical display gave Tom a laugh at the Death Eater's expense, and then he was again alone in the room. 

He turned back to what he had been doing, the lights dimming around him, and reached out with his mind. His body began to glow in a purple-black aura, filling the room with a darkness so thick it would suffocate anyone who did not have a heart as black as his. He smiled to himself and resumed his search, whispering to the emptiness, "I _will_ find you, Ginevra. You can not hide from me forever."


	22. Burying the Dead

A/N: I did a bit of research to figure out where everything was on the map and how long a train ride would take from London to Bristol. The websites I used were fgwtickets, gardens-guide (which has a very nice clicky map of England and all the major cities), and of course the ever helpful h-p lexicon.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

They had only been traveling for two hours when the train steamed into Bristol. Luckily, Draco had managed to both evade the men going around checking tickets and not wake Ginny from her sleep. As the train began to slow and buildings replaced the landscape, he leaned over her sleeping form, intent on waking her. She looked so innocent and peaceful in her sleep. Her face was relaxed, her mask dropped, and the wrinkle of fear and deep thought in her forehead disappeared. Her soft red hair, which smelled like strawberries, fell into her face, and every time she breathed out it fluttered into the air before falling against her mouth again. Draco smiled and brushed it out of the way carefully. The fluttering of her eyelashes was the only response.

She made a soft noise in the back of her throat and tilted her head to the sunlight, making her face glow. Her red hair lit up like a match and her soft freckles contrasted sharply to the glow of her pale skin.

"Ginny, wake up," he whispered in her ear. Her eyes opened slowly, blinking in the bright light, and met his. "We're there."

"Where is there exactly?" she asked with a groan as she stretched out her tired muscles. Draco was distracted by the way her shirt rose up, exposing her flat stomach.

"Bristol. You've only been asleep for about two hours and the sun is just beginning to rise."

Ginny looked out the window, sighing contently. The sun peeked over the old buildings, its rays hitting and warming her face which was pulled up in a smile. "Beautiful."

"Yeah, it is." He didn't mention that he was staring at her and not the waking city outside their window. She turned back to him and Draco quickly looked away. "I got a map and looked it over. Bristol is right against the Bristol Channel."

"Go figure."

He ignored her snide comment. "We can take a ship anywhere from that channel. Ireland. Scotland. Wales is a ferry away. We could go anywhere in Europe, but if we wanted to go south, it might be easier to go across the English Channel. Hell, we could even go to America. What do you think?"

"It sounds expensive. Where are we going to get the money to go on a ship?"

He hadn't thought of that. "That's true. Ships aren't so easy to sneak onto. And planes, forget it. We're going to have to get jobs to work up the money."

He glanced over to find her face creased with worry. "Draco…I'm scared. I don't want to leave England. I don't want to leave my home. I don't know any other languages and I've never had a real job and I've never been outside of Britain."

He nodded and placed a hand on her shoulder. "I know. C'mon, do you think I've ever worked day in my life? I know a few languages and I've traveled around Europe, but I've never been without the shelter of my last name or my father's money. I'm afraid too, Ginny, but we can't let our fear get the better of us. Oy, the train's stopped. Time to get off."

Draco stuffed the map and blanket into the bag. There wasn't enough room for the pillow with it stuffed full of food and Draco's invisibility cloak. They got a few strange glances carrying a broom around, but nobody bothered them as they got off the train and headed towards the heart of the city, pretending to know where they were going or what they were doing. Draco kept his eyes out for a clothing store open this early.

"What are you looking for, Draco?" Ginny asked, watching him.

"Somewhere we can change our appearance that won't use up all of our money. Our hair, clothes, we need to look different. We can't afford to be recognized or make an impression on anyone."

"But…I like my hair." She reached a hand up, running it through her bright red hair. The way the morning sun hit it, it was like a halo of fire around her head. He understood. He couldn't picture Ginny without her red hair.

"We at least need to get a hat to tuck it up under. And get some more Muggle looking clothes for me. And sunglasses to cover our eyes."

"And then what will we do?"

He bit his bottom lip. "I don't want to stay in one place for too long. Getting a job will require that. But we can't really survive without money…we might have to live off of stealing. This big city makes me uncomfortable though. I just wish we had a place to go. A destination in mind. Do you know of any living relatives that could take us in?"

Ginny shook her head. "I don't know if any of them are still alive or where they are now. And you know my brothers are all…" She trailed off, avoiding eye contact.

Draco felt bad for making her think about them again. Her face became a mask, cold, indifferent, emotionless. Her eyes went blank. He didn't like that. He didn't want her like that, like him. Ginny was supposed to be fire, passionate and angry; he was supposed to be the cold, icy one. Draco looped an arm around her shoulder and gave her a quick squeeze.

"All of my living relatives are Death Eaters, as far as I know." He sighed. This would be so much easier if they just had a destination in mind, a goal to work towards, a light at the end of the tunnel. Then they wouldn't feel so lost and alone. He knew Ginny's mental state was weak and he himself was quickly losing hope. If they had a goal they wouldn't feel as if they were wandering aimlessly through this huge, confusing world. "What about your home, the Burrow? I mean, I know it might be burned down, but maybe we could find refuge there. We could at least-" He stopped, seeing her face. It was suddenly pained and he could see her fighting back the tears. Draco regretted the suggestion, but now that he had made it, he didn't know how to take it back. "Forget about it. It's probably not a good idea anyway. The Death Eaters might go there looking for us."

Ginny shook her head. "No, you're right. It is the best place to go. I can't think of anywhere better. And Tom wouldn't expect me to go there. He knows I would be too weak to face my past. But…but maybe it's time for me to go back."

Draco grimaced, wishing he could take back time, unsuggest it, but he saw the way her face was set, the resolution in her eyes. Could she handle it? Clearly even she didn't think so, and he didn't feel she could. He was afraid of a relapse, afraid of her shying away from reality and turning into herself again. But what could he do but support her? He nodded. "Then that's what we'll do."

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

They ended up staying in Bristol for three days with an elderly woman who lived with seven cats and had turned her old Victorian house into a Bed and Breakfast. She let them stay for free while Draco cleaned her chimneys (nearly falling off the roof and breaking his neck in the process), and Ginny cleaned her house from top to bottom and helped her with her knitting. Her name was Loraine, though she insisted they call her Grandmother, and she spent her whole day darning socks, petting cats, and drinking tea. Sometimes she got a bit confused and fell out of order, because Ginny could have sworn she saw more than one cat running around with a piece of cloth hanging off of it by a stitch.

When they heard on the news about two Muggles who mysteriously went missing and turned up dead two days later with no signs of violence or evidence as to who killed them, they knew the Death Eaters had stuck again, this time with the Killing Curse. Draco decided it was time to move and they hitchhiked from Bristol to Exeter, staying in hostels, which were like cheap public dormitories where four or five people stayed in one room, sleeping in uncomfortable bunks and sharing food. There they met quite a few interesting characters such as the Irish lad in his twenties who, after traveling with them for just three days, asked Ginny to marry him, professing his undying love for her. Ginny had to calm Draco and convince him not to knock all of the man's teeth out while explaining to the boy, at the same time, why she couldn't marry him.

Then there was the thirty-five year old banker who drove them from Bridgewater to Wellington and let them stay the night in his house. Ginny didn't miss the flirtatious glances and uncomfortable touches he gave her, and she caught him watching her change that night. Her scream made Draco come running, and this time she didn't prevent him from beating the man to a bloody pulp. They left that night and slept under a bridge rather than in his home.

They stayed a week in Exeter, then hiked from there to Ottery St. Mary. The first night Ginny was too tired and unprepared to go the Burrow, so they used the last of their money to sleep in another hostel. Draco and Ginny rode in the back of a farmer's truck full of hay the few miles to Ottery St. Catchpole, and finally walked the dirt rode to the Burrow.

Ginny's heart pounded with each step. She had gotten this far, she couldn't afford to stop now and turn back. The last few weeks she had felt numb, shutting down her brain and emotions, refusing to think about the Burrow or the last time she was home. Now it was getting harder to push down the memories that kept resurfacing. She saw the path she used to walk to the little creek in the middle of the woods. It was her own secret garden where wild flowers bloomed and the thick trees parted to let the sun in. She walked past it as if she had never seen it, not letting Draco know how she used to hide out there when she was a little girl and needed to be alone, away from her brothers and family.

It looked like nobody had traveled the dirt rode in years. It was covered in late autumn leaves that shook from the trees whenever the wind blew. The reds, pinks, and yellows blended together beautifully, and she was reminded of when she used walk along this rode and pick apples from the trees. Ahead she could see the curve in the road and knew, once they were around that, she would be in the open field that served as her home's giant front yard. She stopped, unsure if she could handle it, and Draco stopped with her, his eyes filled with worry.

"Ginny?" He bit his lip and rubbed her back comfortingly. "You okay?"

She nodded, though she didn't keep walking. "I don't know if I can do this."

Ginny felt his warm arms embrace her and she closed her eyes, burying her head in his shirt. She breathed in his scent with shaky breaths, squeezing her eyes tightly so the tears didn't fall. Draco soothingly stroked her hair and whispered in her ear, "Yes you can. We've gotten this far. You're doing really good…I know it's hard, but I think afterwards you'll feel better."

She nodded. She knew he was right, they had to push on now, and she still wondered what had become of her home after that night. They walked slowly, Draco holding her hand the whole way, and turned that corner.

Sunlight flooded her vision along with green and yellow. She took in her childhood home from the outside in, scanning first the perimeter of trees and then the acres of grass that had grown tall and yellow in the absence of its homeowners. Her eyes took in the huge pond where she and her brothers went swimming. The dock they used to jump and push each other off of still floated in the middle, but the water was still and dark as death. Her eyes scanned over her mother's garden, which was once lively and full of both flowers and vegetables and fruits for eating. It was choked and overrun with weeds now and the wrought-iron gate swung in the wind, creaking with rust, and slapped against the fence with a heavy clang. She forced her eyes away and they landed on the makeshift Quidditch pitch where she and her brothers played. Ginny's eyes led to her father's garage and the broom shed that she used to steal her brother's brooms from and practice flying when nobody was around.

Her eyes moved to the center of the yard, landing on her house, and she let out a shaky sob. Draco wrapped his arms around her, his face grim, and she was thankful for his arms. They held her together, rooted her to the ground, to her sanity, stopped her from falling apart all at once. But the tears still poured down her face and her body shook against his solid one. Her house, her once beautiful home, was burned and falling apart. The third floor tilted precariously against the second one, ready to fall off. While parts of the house looked unharmed by the fire, the whole west wall was burned and crumbled off. She could see into her brothers' Fred and George's bedroom, where smoke and rain damage had ruined the wallpaper and furniture beyond recognition.

Where the structure was made of stone and not wood it had held together nicely, though the roof was sagging in and the floors looked rotten from weather. Weeds had taken over the outside walls of the house and even pushed up through the bottom floor, and ivy curled around the furniture legs and stairs. A crow perched over the doorframe of the front door, the wall had collapsed and burned away, flew off as they approached, and a flock of them went with it, filling the air with their screeching and huge black wings.

Ginny shakily stepped into the doorframe, Draco behind her, and immediately collapsed into uncontrollable sobs. Draco gasped in disgust and held her against him, and she knew he had seen what made her fall apart. Her brother's body lay on the floor, partially decayed and eaten away by the crows and bugs, his whole left side burned up from the fire. The smell of burnt flesh and hair had washed away with time, but still the bile rose up in her throat, and she had to push it back down. Draco squeezed her tightly against his body, it was almost painful, and rocked her. He offered no words of comfort, there were none he could give, no "Shh." or "Don't cry." or "It'll be alright." Because it wouldn't be alright, and they both knew it.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Draco hammered the nail into the block of wood. It was his third try, but this time it went in straight, which he was thankful for. He was tired of asking Ginny to show him how to line up the nail with the pieces of plywood and how to hammer them so he didn't get his thumb, which he had done more than once.

They had been at the Burrow for three days now, though they never slept inside the actual house. Although it was mostly still held together and would have offered shelter, Draco knew Ginny couldn't handle to sleep in there, and he didn't push her. Instead they camped out in the woods in an old tree house Ginny said her brother's had built to play in. Draco wasn't comfortable sleeping there the first night, some of the wood was rotten and it creaked whenever the wind blew, but after they survived one night in it he knew it wouldn't fall apart, plus it offered them shelter and hiding in case any Death Eaters did show up at the Burrow.

Draco wiped his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand and sighed, looking up and down at his work. The box was poorly put together and definitely not watertight, but it would have to do. Now he just had…four more to make. The first day they had wandered from room to room in the house, Ginny putting the sheets they had stripped off of the beds over the bodies of her family members, carefully covering what was left of their faces. Her mother had been the hardest on her, he knew, and he had to carry her out of the room after she passed out at the sight of the headless body.

For two days they had worked nonstop, digging through her burned-down home and collecting each of the bodies. They lined them up on a tarp between her mother's garden and the pond, careful not to disturb the bodies which had charred from the fire, and covered them with another tarp to protect them from the elements. As they went they scrounged up what they could from Ginny's things. She found her wand amongst the havoc, which he was thankful for, because without it she couldn't have healed him after he accidentally drove the hammer down on his fingers. They collected each of Ginny's family members' personal belongings, laying them out beside the bodies, making sure the right wand went with the right person. Ginny had insisted Draco keep a wand for himself, but he knew the importance of a wizard's wand, knew that they were always buried with their wands after death. He declined and he could see in her eyes how thankful she was for that.

Draco started the next coffin, his eyes glancing up constantly to check on Ginny. He had never before realized how strong the girl was. He knew she was dying inside, yet she never let her pain show. She had insisted, after they arrived, that they bury her dead family members. She dug the graves, plotting where she wanted each one of them, while he made the coffins from the wood in her father's garage. Diligently she dug for hours on end, until he had to forcibly pull her away so she didn't collapse from exhaustion. She kept her face a mask, and Draco could see how hard she tried not to cry as she dug five graves for Percy, Charlie, Fred and George, her mother, and her father. When he asked why she was short one grave she pointed to Fred and George's bodies. "They should be buried together. They always were joined at the hip." She was almost finished with the last grave now.

Draco heard a sob and he quickly dropped the hammer and ran to the grave. Ginny was inside, digging her hands into the dirt, the shovel forgotten. She was crying uncontrollably, so hard she couldn't breathe, and beating at the ground with her fists. The rain, which had been just a drizzle for the past twenty minutes, began to pour, soaking them both. Draco grimaced and jumped into the grave beside her, picking her body up off the ground. "Come on, that's enough for today."

"No!" she screamed, wrenching away from him. Draco held her close, rocking her against him. "No no no no no no!" Draco fought the tears of pain as she beat her fists against his chest in rhythm with her sobs, not because she was hurting him, but because he knew how much she was hurting. "Why?! Why, Draco?"

He took a shaky breath and stroked her hair, kissing her on the top of the head. "I don't know. I don't know why Ginny."

He wished he did.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Draco erected the final headstone, the one with Arthur Weasley's name in it. He glanced over at Ginny, who was putting flowers on each of the graves. The burial was unceremonial and quick, they said a few words and put up crude pieces of stone with names on them as grave markers. Ginny leaned over and kissed each of the grave stones, whispering quietly to them as Draco looked on. "Someday I will give you all a proper burial."

This was their seventh day at the Burrow, and although Draco was feeling anxious to move, he didn't rush her. He understood how badly she needed this.

Draco heard a crack behind them and he and Ginny turned in unison. Several more cracks followed but he had already grabbed her hand and started moving rapidly towards the woods. They ducked behind a tree and glanced out. Death Eaters, three of them, were moving amongst the wreckage of Ginny's home, taking in the changes. The bodies no longer littered the floor. Five mounds of dirt caught their attention. Every useful magical item that was small enough to be carried was gone, as if someone had gone grave robbing. In a sense they had.

"Damn! They've been here!" Draco squinted, trying to find the source of the voice. It was his father Lucius. He watched the man stalk through the tall grass towards the graves, kicking a gravestone and knocking it over.

Ginny let out a cry, reaching her hands out towards the grave, and Draco clamped a hand over her mouth, holding her back. "Shh. No. We have to stay quiet."

Lucius scanned the woods, his eyes roaming over them. Draco pulled Ginny back behind a tree, the redhead falling into his lap. When nothing happened Draco poked his head back around the tree. His father was gathering the Death Eaters. "Search the surrounding area. If they aren't here, report immediately back to Lord Voldemort." He was gone with a loud crack.

"I think it's time for us to leave, Ginny."

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

"My Lord Voldemort." Lucius kneeled before him, head low. "I have news of Ginny Weasley."

"Have you found her?" Tom asked, not looking up from the map he pored over.

"No sire, but when I was searching the Burrow, I found evidence that she was there."

Tom glanced up. "What kind of evidence?"

"Five graves, Your Majesty."

Tom stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Only five? There should have been six."

"I beg your pardon?"

"There should have been six. You killed six Weasley's that night…She must have buried two of them together, that, or not finished. You searched the surrounding area?"

"Yes, My Lord. We questioned people in the town. A hotel owner had seen them check-in, about a week ago, but they only stayed a night."

"And nobody had seen them in the last few days?"

"No, sire."

Tom ran a hand through his hair. "They're on the move…but where are they going?" He scanned the map, tracing Ottery St. Catchpole on it in a large red circle, along with London and Bristol. "They're traveling along the M5."

"The M5, sir?" Lucius asked, looking confused.

"A major Muggle highway running through England. However, it ends at Exeter…So where to next?" He shook his head.

"Is there anything I can do to help, My Lord?"

Tom shook his head again and waved him away with a hand. "Leave me. I need time to think."

"Yes, My Lord Voldemort." Lucius bowed and left the room.

"Ginevra, Ginevra….where are you going?"


	23. The Nymphs

A/N: The song in this chapter is "Ask the Mountains" by Enya. It's one of those songs that you really have to listen to, not just read the words, to get the mood of. I got the lyrics from a website called seeklyrics. Oh, and, 2.134 meters is seven feet, by the way.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Draco and Ginny walked along the dirt road slowly, the trek up the hill exhausting them. They had been hiking for three days now, unsure of where they were going or when they were getting there. They had wandered along a trail through the woods until they came to the old path, barely large enough for a single Muggle car to drive along, which had once been laid with stone, but now was more worn down path than actual stone road. Ginny had been sure it would take them back to Ottery St. Catchpole, but now she was starting to believe they had headed in the wrong direction along the road. Ginny had never known this road stretched on for so long. It wound its way through thick woods, fields of grass, up and down hills and around them. No matter where they were though, no matter how far they searched, they could not find a road or house or car or any sign of civilization for miles.

They were running low on food, and with each mile, their spirits fell as well. Ginny knew that if they followed this road it had to lead somewhere. She just wasn't sure where.

"Draco, I need to rest." He paused, glancing back at her, and nodded. They sat down on the road side, Draco pulling out his canteen of water. "There isn't much left."

"That's okay, drink it. If we find a river we can drink from that."

Ginny scrunched up her nose and swallowed the warm water. "But rivers are polluted."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I dunno. I could try to conjure up some water." Ginny was horrible at Conjuration, so she handed him her wand and let him work. He closed his eyes, trying to remember the spell, and she stayed quiet. "Aguamenti." There was a loud splashing sound and Ginny shrieked, jumping back. Draco was soaking wet, as if someone had thrown a bucket of water on him. He closed his eyes in annoyance and blew a piece of wet hair out of his face. Ginny was bent over, peals of laughter escaping her lips. "Yes, well, I don't think that's going to work." He glared haughtily at her in mock anger.

"I don't think my wand likes you much." Indeed, it seemed as though it were trying to tug out of his hand and back towards Ginny.

Draco glanced up at the sky. "The sun is getting low. We should probably stop and set up camp." They were right on the outskirts of the woods in a small field of tall grass. It sounded good to Ginny; she would rather have slept on the soft earth than a bunch of hard roots.

Ginny pulled out their tent, setting it up. It was just a small section of the tent she and her family had stayed in during the Quidditch World Cup. The whole tent, with its kitchen, bathrooms, bedrooms, and sitting room, was much too heavy and unnecessary, not to mention complex to set up, so they ended up taking only one bedroom, the one the twins had slept in, because of its two separate beds. Draco rummaged through their bag, pulling out the last of the food. "We're either going to have to find civilization soon or start picking berries."

She sat forlornly beside him. "There are no berries. It's almost winter."

They stared grimly at the little food they had left.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Ginny's eyes opened slowly, blinking in the darkness. Draco slept soundly, his snores coming from the other side of the tent. She wondered what had woken her.

Ginny heard a noise, far off, coming from the woods at her back. What was it? It sounded almost like music, like singing. She stood, still half asleep, and threw the blue cloak Draco had given her over the large shirt she wore as a nightgown. Through sleep crusted eyes she rummaged around for the zipper of the tent and stumbled out, searching for the source of the noise.

Don't come after

Don't come after

Don't come after

There it was again, singing. Female voices certainly. Ginny walked towards them, stumbling in the darkness. It was a new moon tonight, so she couldn't see a thing, and the thick English mist only shrouded her way more and made it impossible to distinguish her own feet. Ginny glanced back at the tent and Draco. Maybe she should wake him…but the voices compelled her forward and she followed them without thinking. Ginny stumbled over tree roots and against rocks, wishing she had thought to put on her shoes. She contemplated going back many times, but each time thought better of it. Was that splashing she heard? It sounded like a running river. She could make out three distinct voices, moving and flowing like water, like the songs of angels.

Come

Come

Come

Come

A tree branch whipped out, slapping her in the face, but she ignored the cuts it left and pushed forward, seeing nothing but the light in front of here. There was a parting in the woods and in it and eerie glow. Ginny could see the water moving ahead of her and the trees seemed to part for her access.

Don't come after

Don't come after

Please don't follow me along

When you read this I'll be gone

Ginny gasped in surprise and stared at the beautiful creatures before her. Their bodies seemed to glow with a light of their own, a sort of blue-green in the darkness. They bathed naked in the water, completely unselfconscious. One of them, her hair like green ivy fanned out below her in the water, looked up and smiled, crooking a finger. The others giggled, their voices singing softly.

Ask the mountains

Springs and fountains

Why couldn't this go on?

Couldn't our happiness go on?

Ask the sun that lightens up the sky

When the night gives in, to tell you why

Ginny stepped forward, towards the woman. The one to her right was pale and had long curls of white hair and large breasts. She glided towards Ginny, reaching a hand out to her and leading her into the water, and Ginny followed, unable to see anything but her. She pressed her full lips to Ginny's ear, whispering private words, and Ginny knew the woman cared only for her.

Ask the mountains

Wild woods, highlands

Ask the green in the woods and the trees

The cold breeze coming in from the sea

Ginny was chest deep in the cold water, which was making her shiver. The other woman was beside her, her hair as black as night, and her skin, Ginny stared in wonder, really was blue. It was no trick of the light. She brought her hands up to Ginny's cloak, unclasping it and throwing it over the bank. Her hands looked distorted through Ginny's half-lidded eyes, her fingers were too long and her nails were too sharp. But when Ginny stared into her bright blue eyes, like crystals, she wasn't afraid.

Springs and fountains

Ask the mountains

Springs and fountains

Ask the mountains

The other one was before her again, the one with the bright green skin and ivy for hair. Her hands cupped Ginny's face, stroking her cheeks, and boldly Ginny kissed her palm. The woman smiled and pressed their naked bodies together, Ginny wondering when she had lost her sleeping shirt, and their lips met. She sighed into the woman's cold mouth, arching her back.

Springs and fountains

Ask the mountains

The blue skinned woman pushed her out of the way, glaring. Ginny smiled, ecstatic that they were fighting over her, when she paled in comparison to their beauty. The woman laced her thighs around Ginny's and pulled her face to hers, crashing their lips together. Her knees felt weak and she found the woman was supporting her with a hand against the small of her back. Ginny stared into her pale eyes, entranced, their lips molding together until she could no longer breathe.

Springs and fountains

Ask the mountains

She was yanked away by the third angel, the one with the white hair, who pulled Ginny's back against her chest. She stroked her hand along Ginny's body, cupping her breasts, and kissed her longingly while the others stared on greedily. Although her whole body felt aflame and she was sure she was blushing, Ginny could not hide her pride that they all wanted her so badly. She felt like a thousand galleons, like a prized treasure, like a rare gem that everyone wanted to fondle. And fondle they did.

Ask the sun that lightens up the sky

When the night gives in, to tell you why

Ginny felt her breath literally sucked out of her this time, but even as her eyes became spotty, she didn't care. She was in ecstasy. One of the angels kneeled before her, trailing kisses along her stomach, while the other could not keep her hands or mouth away from Ginny's neck and chest.

Tell the mountains

Springs and fountains

Ginny couldn't breathe anymore. She tried to pull her lips away, to catch a breath of air, but the angel wouldn't let her. Her lungs felt like they were tightening, her veins were on fire, she couldn't see anymore. Something had wound its way around her wrists, something sharp like the thorny stalks of a rose, and it was cutting into her delicate skin. Her heart was suddenly beating in fear, not ecstasy, and she realized they were moving, that the water was up to her chin now, that her feet couldn't touch the bottom, and she was sinking under and she couldn't breathe.

Why couldn't this go on?

Couldn't our happiness go on?

Ginny tried to push them away, tried to free herself, but that made them angry. They suddenly bit and clawed at her with their sharp teeth and nails, and angry hissing mixed in with their song. The angel with the white hair and pale skin looked different now. Color seemed to spread from her roots down to the tips of her hair, blood red, resembling Ginny's, and her skin began to look more alive. There was a hungry look in her eyes. She realized the ivy wrapped around her arms was from the other angel's hair, which had extended and become thorny and sharp. Drops of Ginny's blood spilled into the water. Something slimy was clutching to Ginny's arm, and she suddenly understood it was the hand of the blue-skinned angel, her body slippery and oily. Ginny struggled to escape, to keep her head above the water as they pulled her below.

Why couldn't this go on?

Couldn't our happiness go on?

Something shot past Ginny into the water and she heard an ear-piercing shriek. There was a hiss and one of the angels moved forward, growling in anger, while the other pulled her under the water completely. She struggled to break the surface, it seemed so far away now, and darkness and the cold water were making her mind slow and numb. She thought she heard Draco's voice, distant and far away, and wondered if she were dying. Lips crashed against hers again and Ginny could feel the air, the life, being drained out of her, as before her the angel seemed to grow stronger and more powerful and even more beautiful. Ginny felt a tug at her midriff, and knew death was reclaiming her, pulling her back into its black abyss.

And then Ginny broke the surface of the water and inhaled deeply. Life flooded back into her as she was pulled out of the water, away from the clawing angel, who was suddenly not an angel at all, but a demonic creature of the deep. Its green skin looked sickly and its ivy hair tangled around its head like thorny snakes. She saw what she hadn't seen before: the sharp, dagger-like, teeth, the cruel icy eyes filled with hunger, the voice screeching like a dying creature. Why had she been compelled to follow their song?

"What, what are you those things?!"

"Nymphs. They lure their victims in and then suck the life out of them. Are you alright?" asked an out of breath voice from beside her. She looked up in wonder at the woman who was carrying her, tucked under one arm, as if she were weightless.

Ginny nodded silently, too busy taking in her appearance to speak. She had long brown hair, tied back in an intricate braid, revealing her sharp, pointed ears. Her cheekbones were high and prominent and her eyes were slanted and almond shaped under high, arched eyebrows. She was muscular and incredibly tall, but lean and strong. The woman wore tight clothes that covered the necessary parts of her body and nothing else; the rest of her was covered in an assortment of weaponry: a bow, a quiver of arrows, daggers, a small sword. She ran light and barefoot, barely making a sound. "An elf," Ginny whispered, her face lighting up in a smile. "I've never seen an elf in person before."

"Well, you'd better get used to it. You're trespassing on my land. I'm taking you and your friend back to my people with me."

x x x x x x x x x x x x x

There was a trial held for them where the elves argued over whether or not to kill them. Even though their lives were at stake they weren't allowed to attend; instead they were held hostage, kept in a locked room of an enormous palace in a huge city surrounded by a high stone wall. This unmapped city sat in the middle of nowhere in the woods, isolated from both the magical and Muggle worlds. Ginny wanted to explore the place, in a state of wonder and awe over the spectacular architecture and people, whereas Draco merely wanted to escape, worried that they might end up killed. The trial lasted three days, and finally a beautiful elf, though they were all beautiful, the men and the woman, opened the door and told them not only were they free, but they were allowed to stay as long as they liked.

Ginny was ecstatic and Draco was weary as they explored the city, the elves all nodding to them respectfully, fully accepting their change in status from criminals to citizens protected by their queen. As luck would have it, the elf that had rescued Ginny, Fianait, was a noble and thus had a lot of influence in the community and on the queen, Líadain. Although they had their own language, Fianait spoke some English, and could translate for them for the most part.

Fianait was heading towards them now, her long legs making even longer strides, crossing the courtyard quickly. Ginny couldn't get over the way she towered over her and Draco. She had to be over two meters tall, and she was of average height compared to the other elves. To compensate, they had incredibly high, vaulted ceilings of their elaborate buildings. Ginny was in wonder over their city. Every elf lived with its family in its own home, even the quaintest of which were ornately decorated, and built in amongst their houses and cobblestone streets were a multitude of gardens, courtyards, shops, and more architecture. Bright eyed children played in the streets, leading carefree lives, and although they had a class structure, Ginny could find no poor or impoverished. It was like living in paradise, in utopia.

"Ginny Weasley, would you and your escort please come with me." Despite having rescued them and defended them in court, Fianait was incredibly formal.

"Of course. Is there a problem?" Draco looked annoyed at being called Ginny's escort, he hadn't been welcomed quite so warmly as she had, but he kept his mouth shut.

"No, I have been requested to take you to someone."

"Who?"

"The woman that saved your life."

Ginny and Draco followed Fianait in confusion. She offered no other explanation and did not answer their questions, so they trailed her in silence, out of breath just from keeping up with her long strides. She led them through the winding maze of streets, shops, and homes, until she finally came to a small, quaint one with a large yard and beautiful plants covering every available space in the yard. Fianait knocked crisply on the door, and inside Ginny heard a dreamy voice whisper "Come in."

Ginny and Draco stepped into the brightly lit home, their eyes landing on a woman. She sat in a chair by the window, staring out at her garden, a small smile on her lips. Her blonde hair seemed to glow in the morning light, as did her tanned skin where the sun hit it. When Draco cleared his throat she turned her head, her bright eyes lighting up. "Ginny. I haven't seen you in years."

Ginny fell to her knees, staring at her old acquaintance from school. She looked the same as the last time Ginny saw her. Same pale eyebrow, same surprised expression, same faraway look in her eyes. And that knowing smile. That way she could read people, could see the most absurd details. All the same. "Luna," Ginny whispered.


	24. The Precipice of Change

A/N: The song in this chapter is "Surrender" by Evanescence. I got the lyrics from lyricsdownload. Well, since I'm going out of town for the next couple of days, I figured, instead of make you suffer until Sunday night without an update, I would give you guys an early one. And it's got a special treat in it. :D Enjoy!

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Ginny, Luna, and Draco slowly walked along the cobblestone street, catching up. Ginny had never really been close to Luna in school, always teasing her behind her back just like the rest of the students, but now she began to have a new respect and liking for the strange girl, not to mention it was a relief to see someone from Hogwarts. Where Ginny had changed drastically since their days at Hogwarts, Luna had stayed stagnant and strong in her beliefs and ways. Ginny found the idle chatter soothing to her nerves.

Ginny explained about her time in Azkaban and then with Draco, leaving out Tom's involvement completely. Draco obliged to her wish for discretion on the matter; he understood that Tom had been her secret for years and she didn't wish anyone to know about him. Luna described her father's confession about her mother, who had died when she was very young. It turned out her strange appearance was due to her half-elven blood, from her mother's side of the family. Her father wanted her to be safe from the battle and begged her to hide out with the elves. Although she wanted to fight in the war, she was curious about her bloodline and the rest of her family, and packed up and left.

"It must be horrible away from your father." Ginny watched a small child chase after a Puffskein. He stopped its pursuit of the furball long enough to stare and her and Draco before running off.

"Oh no, not at all. I get letters from him every week with gifts, information about the Order, and new issues of the Quibbler. Oh look." She held up a strange animal Ginny had never seen before. It resembled a pig with curled horns. "It's a Crumple-Horned Snorkack. Nobody believed me when I told them they do exist but they are just crawling all over this magical woods. Isn't it cute?"

"Wait…did you say information about the Order?"

Luna looked up from where she had been rubbing her nose against the creature's, cooing to it. "Oh yes. I got one yesterday. They got another member to join."

"But…but I thought the Order had disbanded? Harry and Dumbledore both died in the Final Battle…"

"You know, I don't know why they call it the 'Final Battle.' It certainly wasn't the last one. There have been hundreds since then. But of course the Order is still together. Just because we don't have a major figurehead doesn't mean we aren't strong. Not as strong as the Death Eaters, of course, but still strong and working hard to build up a resistance. We hope in the next five years to attack the major Death Eater headquarters, that is, if we can get enough recruits."

"You mean…the Order is still out there fighting?" Ginny tried to absorb this new information. "B-but…then why didn't they…why didn't they come for me? Why didn't they save me from Azkaban?"

Luna stopped, her face filled with pity and concern. "Oh Ginny, we wanted to. When your brother heard news from our spies that you were in Azkaban he was distraught and tripping all over himself trying to save you. But then the 'Final Battle' and Harry's death left the Order weakened. We knew Azkaban was suicide and we didn't have the numbers to invade it. It crushed Ronald to know where you were and to not be able to help you.

Ginny's knees hit the hard stone and her head began to feel dizzy. This wasn't happening; she wasn't hearing this. She just wished Luna would stop talking, would just shut up. She felt like she was watching she scene from outside her body, from far away, from down a long tunnel.

"He went into a depression when he learned about the death of the rest of your family. The Order wouldn't even let him return to the Burrow because they were too afraid that it might be attacked again. I just sent him an owl yesterday when you showed up. I haven't gotten a reply yet. Ginny? Ginny, what's wrong?"

"No…No, Ron is dead. You're mistaken." Ginny shook her head, trying to clear it, and wrapped her arms around her body. Why did she feel so chilled? Why couldn't she shake this cold dread?

"Of course he's still alive. Why would you think he wasn't?"

"No! They all died that night! They all died!" Ginny was sobbing now.  
She felt strong arms wrap around her shoulders, squeezing her, and heard Draco's voice by her ear. "Ginny, Ron wasn't there that night."

"No…but…they all died...They all died, Draco." He rocked her back and forth, comforting her as she broke down sobbing.

"Oh my…I'm so sorry, Ginny. She has spent so long trying to deal with their deaths that to hear otherwise must be a horrible shock." Luna kneeled down in front of her, putting her hands on Ginny's face and lifting it. "You poor thing." Luna's face looked worried. "Ginny, you're burning up. You're whole face is hot."

But she couldn't stop shivering. Couldn't shake this cold from her body. She shook her head. "No….no, I'm cold."

Draco looked alarmed. "Ginny, why did you say something. You're sick. C'mon, let's get you back to Luna's house." He lifted her easily in his arms, and she was thankful for his warm body. The rocking of his body as he carried her to Luna's house swayed her into a fitful, feverish sleep.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

"Ginevra…Ginevra, wake up." Ginny sat up with a startled gasp, glancing around her for the source of the voice. "Ginevra…Where are you…?"

No. It couldn't be Tom. She had the necklace. The necklace…Ginny's hand flew to her throat, but the amulet was gone. It wasn't the only thing missing. She was completely naked. How had this happened? Where was she?

"Ginevra…won't you tell me where you are?" His chuckle reverberated around her, coming from all around, but she couldn't see him. "I'm tired of these games, Ginevra. I'm tired of playing hide and seek. Damnit! Where are you?!"

She was in a field of mist. Nothingness surrounded her and she could barely see in front of her. The fog was so thick that the landscape looked barren. All she could hear was his voice, but the haze made it seem as if it was coming from everywhere at once. Did he know she was here? He seemed as lost as she felt. Ginny stayed quiet, listening to his annoyed curses, and she understood, he must not realize she was here with him.

Ginny stood slowly, though that didn't help her vision in the slightest, and began moving, slowly, cautiously. She walked through the mist for what seemed like hours, hearing only Tom's agitation and seeing, feeling, doing nothing. She began to fear she would never escape from this place, this nightmare.

An image formed before her, slowly, and she realized it was Tom. He sat on the ground, legs crossed, eyes closed, as if in a trance, all the while murmuring. The fog around him glowed with his magical aura, and he wore nothing but a loose green silk robe falling off his bare shoulders. Ginny slowly took a quiet step back, hoping not to draw attention to herself.

His eyes shot open, landing on her. "Yes!" He grinned to himself, his handsome features lighting up in surprised delight. "Here I am searching for you, Ginevra, and you have come to me…" Tom glanced around them, his eyebrows narrowed in confusion. "Where are we?"

He was speaking as if this were normal conversation, as if they were two old friends that had met completely by chance and were exchanging idle conversation. Ginny took a step back, making his eyes widen in fear. Fear of what? Of losing her? Had he been searching for her all this time?

Of course he had. She didn't even need to ask herself that question to know he had been. It would seem the amulet worked far better than she had ever expected. He stood elegantly, looking as regal as a king, and stepped towards her. "Do not leave so soon, Ginevra. I have finally found you. Would you leave me in this desolate place all alone?"

Ginny wanted to turn and run, but she knew that would only cause a chase. He was acting strange, as if he missed her. As if he needed her. His eyes had a desperate, sad look to them, one she couldn't resist, but she reminded herself of the deceitful devil behind them. "I should leave." As if she could. As if she knew how.

"No!" He reached his hand out, and her whole body seemed to be locked in place. He strode to her quickly, grabbing her up in his arms. "Ginevra. My love, my bride. Do not leave me. Tell me, where are you? Let me take you back to the Manor. I am quickly winning over the Death Eaters. Soon I will conquer all of the wizarding world. And we can be married. You can be my Dark Queen." He fell to his knees, holding her by the waist against his body, his face pressed to her abdomen. "We will live in a castle together. It will be perfect. You will see. But do not leave me again, Ginevra. Do not torture me this way once more."

Ginny shook her head, taking an unsteady step back. His face suddenly became frantic. He kissed her abdomen, holding her tighter, but she pushed him away, still backing up. "Tom. No. I don't want you. Just leave me alone."

He was on the ground now, and he lifted his head, eyes flashing red in anger. "No! You are mine, Ginevra! You cannot leave me! I will not let you!" His teeth barred in anger, the energy gathering around his body. Ginny spun and fled from him, hearing his livid scream behind her. "Ginevra!"

She ran desperately, glancing back, but she could see nothing in the mist. Her body collided with something hard and she fell back, staring up at him. Tom smirked insanely, reaching out her. "Ginevra. Tsk tsk." He began to sing, his voice desperate and demanding.

Is this real enough for you

You were so confused

Now that you've decided to stay

We'll remain together

You can't abandon me

You belong to me

Ginny ducked away from his hand, knowing she had elicited his instinctual pursuit, but too afraid to let him near her. He was no longer afraid, no, he had morphed into the controlling man she had always known, hiding behind his carefully chosen façade of elegant phantom and friend.

Breathe in and take my life in you

No longer myself only you

There's no escaping me, my love

Surrender

She could hear his footsteps behind her, in front of her, beside of her. He chased her, ducking in and out of the fog, his face up ahead, his voice in her ear, his body running alongside hers. Tom haunted her as she tried desperately to escape, even though there was nowhere to go.

Darling, there's no sense in running

You know I will find you

Everything is perfect now

We can live forever

You can't abandon me

You belong me

Ginny screamed, arms flailing, trying to keep her balance. Her toes stood at the edge of a cliff, and she stared down into a long precipice below. Her heart leapt to her throat as she swayed on her tip toes, thankful that there was no breeze to push her over. The sheer wall of the cliff fell forever into a misty nothingness, and even as she tried to convince herself that this was only a nightmare, that she would soon wakeup, she was afraid of falling down there. Finally she fell back onto her butt, staring up at the endlessly gray sky. Tom's robe came into her line of sight and she sat up, glancing back at him. He drew closer, serenading her with his obsessive song, taking his sweet time with each footfall.

Breathe in and take my life in you

No longer myself only you

There's no escaping me, my love

Surrender

Ginny was trapped. Before her was Tom, her phantom lover, best friend, and worse nightmare. Behind her was a cliff that dropped into the unknown. She was out of options and out of time to decide. She didn't want Tom, but him catching her was inevitable, wasn't it? Or she could choose to plunge to either her escape or her death. She didn't want to make this decision, didn't want to choose. With Tom, at least Ginny knew her fate, but to fall, she had no clue where she would land.

Breathe in and take my life in you

No longer myself only you

There's no escaping me, my love

Surrender

Tom went quiet. His song was over, he was finished. He stood before her, unmoving, staring into her soul. "Ginevra. It's time to decide. Which will you choose? Me…or him?"

"Him?" She was confused. Who was this person he spoke of? Tom pointed over her shoulder and she glanced back. Draco stood behind her, on the other side of the cliff. If she leapt, could she make it? Draco smiled, opening his arms to her, and she wanted nothing more to collapse into them. But she was afraid to make that leap. Afraid of what would happen if he didn't catch her, if he couldn't. Afraid of falling.

Ginny frowned to herself and glanced between the two. "Time's up, Ginevra." Tom reached his hand out to her, grabbing at her hair, but she fell out of his reach. Ginny jumped.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Draco had watched over Ginny's fitful sleep for three days now. She alternated between shivering and sweating, her fever skyrocketing and falling again. Luna gave her elven potions and put herbs in her food that were supposed to make her better, but they didn't seem to work, so they decided the best thing to do was wait and let her body fight off the sickness itself. Draco figured she had the fever; Luna claimed it was likely she was bitten by some strange creature he had never heard of and couldn't pronounce the name of. Either way, Draco didn't leave Ginny's side for anything less than Luna bathing her or changing her clothes.

He was by her bedside now, watching her sleep. She murmured and tossed and turned, and he guessed she was having another feverish dream. He had tried many times to wake her from them but it never seemed to work, she woke only for moments at a time and only on her own, so instead he watched her and held her hand and tended to her every need. Draco heard a moan and his icy eyes met her brown ones.

"Draco…" her voice was hoarse and sickly sounding, but she smiled up at him. Draco beamed, brushing her hair out of her face. "I'm thirsty."

He nodded, grabbing a drink from the cold pantry where Luna kept the food chilled and handed it to her. She gulped it down greedily. "I should think so, you haven't eaten or drinken much in the past few days."

Ginny's eyes widened in surprise. "Days? How long have I been out of it?"

"Three days and two nights. It's nice to see you've finally woken up, Sleeping Beauty." He grinned at the annoyed look on her face.

"I feel dreadful. My head is pounding. What happened to me?" Ginny leaned back in the bed with a soft groan, and Draco tried to ignore the way the sheets twisted around her bare legs.

"You've had a fever. The flu most likely." Draco's eyes kept straying. Damn Luna for not putting any pants on the girl. She wore nothing but a tank top and a pair of pink knickers, of which he could see flashes through her sheets. "What?"

"I said, I'm hot. Can you make it any cooler in here?" A little bead of sweat ran down her neck and between her breasts, darkening her shirt where it soaked through. He gulped and stood quickly, going to the window.

"Well, the windows are already opened, and it's like, thirty degrees outside. I don't think I could make it much colder in here." Draco himself was wrapped up in a sweater and two blankets.

"I think I'll go outside then…" she sat up weakly and shakily tried to pull herself out of the bed. Draco grabbed her before she could fall over.

"Jeez, you're too weak to be standing on your own." He wrapped her arm around his shoulder, guiding her out the door and onto the back porch.

Ginny smiled and took a huge inhalation of the crisp air, her breath exhaling in a visible cloud. She stared up at the cloudy sky for minutes before speaking. "I had a dream."

"You were tossing and turning a lot. I think you had more than one dream. What was it about?"

"Tom…" Her hand immediately went to her neck to find the pendant.

"I haven't taken it off of you for a second, Ginny. There's no way Tom could have found you."

She smiled over at him. "No, I don't think he was really there…This was a different kind of dream…You were there too."

"Oh?" He leaned back against the railing, crossing his arms over his chest. "What happened? Did I come rescue you? Beat him up? I hope I got him good."

Ginny face held a secretive grin. "Not quite…I was being chased by him. And I came to a ledge. And you were on the other side. I was trapped. I had to either give into him or try to leap to you."

"Well, that's a strange one. Why didn't I just have a broom? Come save you? How unheroic of me."

"No…I realized something. The dream was a metaphor. All of this time, Draco, you've been confessing your love to me, and I haven't been able to return your feelings. I think the dream was trying to show me how trapped I felt."

Draco was concerned. "Ginny…you don't have to feel trapped by me. I'm not trying to force anything on you. I'm not like him…I won't make you love me."

Ginny shook her head. "Don't you see, Draco? You weren't making me feel trapped; I was. I was afraid of the unknown, afraid of my feelings for you, afraid of starting a relationship that might end up as disastrously as my one with Tom."

"Ginny-"

"No, just listen. I trapped myself because I was so afraid. I wanted you, but I was scared of Tom, scared you would be like him. And then I realized I was tired of running away. Tired of being frightened. I had to either choose to be with Tom, who represented everything I knew and hated, or with you, everything unknown, but that I loved." Draco's heart was pounding in his chest. Was she telling him she loved him? "Draco…I leapt. I took that jump, and then I woke up, and when I did, it was to see your face, your eyes, watching mine."

He took a shaky breath. Her hand was resting on his cheek now, tracing his jaw line. Her eyes smiled up at him, those lovely chestnut eyes, and for once they looked happy, unhaunted. With her face this close, he could count each of her freckles, twenty-three of them, sprinkled across her nose and cheeks. Draco wanted so badly to kiss her, but he wasn't sure what she meant by her words. "So umm…you chose me?"

"Yeah, Draco, I chose you." Something soft and white landed on the tip of her nose and melted. Draco glanced up and so did Ginny to see more falling from the sky. Tiny crystals of ice snowed down on them, landing in their faces, and he looked back down at Ginny. Her head was still tilted upwards, her dazzling eyes dancing in wonderment. The snow sprinkled into her red hair, standing out sharply against it, and latched onto her eyelashes like crystals. She laughed and spread her arms wide, soaking in the cold snow that fell on her, which he guessed must be the relief from her fever she had been hoping for. "Snow…Draco, I haven't seen snow in ages."

"You're gorgeous." The words left his lips in a breathless gasp before he could take them back. Her arms fell to her side and her gaze lowered to his again. "I'm…sorry." He could have died from embarrassment.

She smiled. "No, don't apologize. Draco, I…I…"

He put a finger to her lips, silencing her. "It's okay, you don't have to force the words out. I told you, I'm not making you love me."

"No!" Ginny seemed exasperated now. "No…Draco," she took a deep breath, squeezing her eyes shut, "…Iloveyou." She blurted the words out in a rush before becoming incredibly interested in the floorboards under her bare feet. Her hands rang at her shirt and she fidgeted in embarrassment.

He couldn't keep the grin from his face. Draco's hand went to her chin, tilting it up, and their eyes met again. "I love you too, Ginny Weasley. And now, I am going to kiss you." She took a deep breath and swallowed hard, her eyes flitting between his own and his lips. Draco was afraid she could hear his heart throbbing painfully in his chest, and when she delicately licked her lips, he felt his groin throb as well. He ignored it and instead focused on making this kiss perfect, moving his head slowly towards hers, their lips almost touching. Her eyes were closed and her head tilted up towards his invitingly, and he couldn't resist anymore.

And then Draco's head collided with Ginny's. They both jumped back uttering Ouches of surprise and pain, Ginny clutching at her nose and Draco at his forehead. He felt his heart fall. Damn. That moment had been perfect and he'd ruined it. Ginny's giggles met his ears, the sound like music, and soon Draco was laughing too. "I think…you missed…" she said between peals of laughter.

"Yeah, well, you've got a hard head, you know that?" Draco rapped his knuckles against her head for emphasis.

"Hey! You kissed my nose! My lips are here, stupid!" They laughed for minutes before their chuckles died down. Draco found he was lying on the floor beside Ginny, her head leaning against his. He played with her hands, running her fingers through his. "Should we try again?"

Draco grinned. "I hope so." He tilted his head towards hers, kissing her forehead, then her eyes, her cheeks, her nose, and the corners of her lips. Ginny ran her fingers through his hair, the sensation both calming and exciting him at the same time, and pulled his lips against hers with a little giggle.

Finally. Her lips were soft, softer than he could possibly have imagined, and moist too. Her hand tangled in his hair and his own slipped down her body, running over her curves before clutching the small of her back, which he used to pull her closer. Ginny's legs tangled in his, the sensation of her thighs driving him wild with passion, but he kept their kiss slow and romantic, and she let him lead. He slipped his tongue into her mouth, studying every crevice, their tongues exploring each other's.

Soon they were lost in the feelings. The two lovers lay there for hours, kissing each other, the snow falling around them, landing on their bodies, which Draco had thrown a blanket haphazardly over. Ginny's red hair and Draco's blonde blended together, like fire and ice, and one watching them couldn't be sure where one body ended and the other began.


	25. Festival

A/N: I'm sorry it's been so long since my last update. What with finals coming up and all, I've got a ton of work to do for school before the end of the year, so my updates for the next month might be a bit scarce compared to usual. I'll still try to get a chapter up every week, but this is my pre-apology if I don't.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

"Here, Ginny, I got this letter from your brother." Luna set a piece of folded, weather-worn paper before Ginny, who simply stared at it. She and Draco were sitting at the table drinking tea; it had been two days since their first kiss and for the past few days time had seemed to fly as she and Draco spent more time together. Now that they had gotten over the initial bump in their relationship, the floodgates had opened, and they had spent almost every waking moment learning more about each other and exploring one another's souls and bodies. Of course, they hadn't gone beyond kissing yet; Ginny was still fairly shy when it came to boys, but she knew Draco wanted her. The thought both frightened and thrilled her at the same time, but he never pushed her, never crossed the line they were still setting.

Ginny gulped and stared at parchment. It had seen better days: it was creased and rain wrinkled at the edges and fading. She felt a brief wave of nausea and disbelief that her brother was in fact still alive. The new revelation was hard to get used to and truth be told, she had put off thinking about it at all since she had woken up from her fever. But now here it was, factual evidence rearing its ugly head in her face, and she was afraid to open the letter, afraid of how she would react.

Was that really what she was scared of? Or was she more frightened that it would turn out not to be true? That if she really gave in and accepted he was still alive, it would turn out to be some big hoax, a mistake. That, or as soon as she finally began to believe it, she would lose him again. It was similar to what she went through with Draco, with accepting her feelings for him. Sooner or later, she realized, she would have to recognize the truth and move on.

Only she could make that leap. Luna and Draco couldn't hold her hand and guide her across every time. But after one revelation, a second change might be easier. Ginny's shaky hand reached for the letter and picked it up, turning it over in her hands. There was no stamp in the thick wax holding it together, just a glob of candle goop the color of mud. She broke the seal and opened it, her eyes flitting over the shortness of the letter, absorbing it, before going back to the top and reading slowly, word for word. Each one held a special meaning, a love in her heart, and by the end of the letter she was reading greedily, soaking it all in, her brother's warmth, his smell, his freckles and red hair. Tears streamed down her face, but this time, they were tears of joy.

Luna,

Is it true? Is Ginny really alive? I hope this isn't some sick joke…No, I know you wouldn't make something like that up. Thank you for letting me know, the rest of the Order is celebrating over here. I can't leave the Headquarters, but Lupin said he would set up a Portkey that can be ready by Thursday morning. Send Ginny my love and give her this letter.

Ron Weasley

Ginny smiled to herself, running her hands over the sloppy handwriting and tear-streaked parchment. His hands were probably shaking as badly as her own when he wrote this. She folded the letter gently and kissed it before placing it in her pocket, as if she could absorb his warmth, his life, just through contact with the paper. Draco's hand reached under the table, clutching her own, and she returned his squeeze.

"He said that they're setting up a Portkey to leave Thursday morning. That's tomorrow." Ginny suddenly felt sad. Of course she wanted to see her brother, but she would miss this Eden that she and Draco had spent the last few days in.

"Yes, I got more information in Lupin's letter. He was right to assume Ron would forget the details in his joy of hearing the news about your safe return." Luna sat down gracefully across from Ginny. "Tomorrow. That's perfect. That means you two can stay for the Festival."

"Festival?" Draco looked interested. "Is that what all the decorations and good food smells have been about?"

Luna nodded, a little smile on her lips. "It's the Harvest Festival to celebrate the Autumnal Equinox."

"The Fall Equinox? You mean it's September already?" Ginny was surprised. For the past few weeks that they had been traveling they had completely lost track of time. Now it seemed almost a month had passed since they had escaped from Tom.

"Oh yes, it will be my second time attending. It's a lovely festival, lights, music, food, dancing, games. You'll enjoy it…" Luna looked thoughtful. "I can't believe I didn't get you two anything to wear! Ginny, you can fit in my clothes, but I might have to ask my neighbor to let me borrow something for you Draco."

"Are we getting ready now? The Festival isn't until tonight."

Luna was already up and heading towards her room. She turned, blinking in surprise at Ginny's objection. "But of course! There is so much to prepare! And it will take a long time to get you ready. The Festival is for celebration, and everyone dresses up extravagantly." She smiled. "I can assure you, Ginny, you'll love it."

Ginny shared an apprehensive glance with Draco before getting up to follow Luna. This would be interesting, to say the least.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Draco wandered aimlessly through the crowds of people, his hands full of food. It seemed at the Festival everyone wanted you to eat everything they had made, and he had stopped bothering to tell the Elves that he wasn't hungry and just accepted whatever they gave him, for fear of being offensive. It wasn't that Elven food was bad, quite the contrary, but he had eaten more in the past hour than he had in the last few weeks.

Draco's eyes scanned the crowd, trying to find a familiar face or a shock of red hair, but when you were shorter than everyone else in the city, it made finding someone fairly hard. He felt ungraceful, small, and clumsy as he stumbled through masses of celebrating elves singing, dancing, and eating, all the while searching for Ginny. After Luna had whisked her away to play dress-up, Draco had been recruited by Luna's neighbor to set up decorations and hadn't seen either of the girls since.

"Lost, little human?" Draco whipped around, ready to tell off the Elf that had called him little, but found him face to…err…chest with Fianait. She smirked at him, clearly amused that he felt so inferior surrounded by such a beautiful, elegant race of people. It was true. Draco was used to being viewed as rich, smart, elegant, and handsome, and since he had run away from his father's manor, it seemed he was losing each one of those assets piece by piece.

"I was looking for Ginny." He didn't bother to retaliate about the short comment. Fianait's eyes scanned the crowd briefly before she shrugged. Even that looked graceful. "I haven't seen her, but I'm sure she will turn up."

Draco nodded. "So umm…what exactly did you want to say to me? You did approach me."

She began walking, silent for some time, and he followed. "Yes…I have heard you and Ginny will be leaving tomorrow to return to your wizarding family."

"Her family. I don't really know them."

She nodded contemplatively. "I would like to ask a request of you."

"Sure."

"I would like…to go with you. Well, not I specifically, but my daughter. Her father is a wizard and she wants to get in touch with her roots and be amongst other wizards. She wants to learn your ways and magic."

"Don't you think that's a bit dangerous, what with the war and all? Maybe she should wait until it's safer."

Fianait sighed. "That is what I told her, but your war may not end any time soon, and she is still a curious child. I believe she will be safe amongst powerful wizards such as yourself, and I will be going with her. I don't ask that you keep her around forever, just for a few days, to let her see if this fancy dies out or if she really wants to learn your magic. If she decides she does, then I will arrange something with those mentors that taught you at your school. I am not imposing by asking this, am I?"

Draco thought about this. "I don't see why not. Sure, bring her along. I'm sure you can work something out with Professor Lupin, though I suppose he doesn't really go by professor anymore."

"I thank you Draco. This means a lot to my daughter and me." Fianait looked over to where a large group of elves were gathered around a giant bonfire taller than any of them. "I do believe you found your Ginny."

Draco followed her gaze until his eyes found bright red hair. He glanced back at Fianait. "I never did get to thank you for what you did. Not just for saving Ginny's life from those nymphs, but for defending us in the trial."

"It was not just I. Your friend Laelius, the one you call Luna, she vouched on your behalf before the courts, I merely told them I believed you were harmless."

"I didn't quite understand everything that went on."

She smiled. "I suppose you would not, you were not even allowed to attend your own trial. You were trespassing on Elven land, and in the past, Elves have come to hate and fear most wizards. That is why we are in hiding now. But recently Laelius, I apologize, Luna, came to stay with us, and my own daughter was born from a past relationship with a wizard. Seeing that mixing Elven and wizard blood was not so horrible after all, and that we might have a lot to learn from the wizards and an alliance with them, my people have become more open to new ideas. That, and your friend defending you, were the reasons you were not only let off without punishment, but were given the status of honored guests.

"You see, my daughter's curiosity is not the only reason I want to go with you. I admit, I do have other motives. I would like to meet with your leaders and arrange a trade agreement, even an alliance, on behalf of my people. I do not know how open they will be to this idea, but I hope we can make something work."

Draco nodded. "Now things are starting to make sense. I can't say I know any of the Order very well, but I think they wouldn't mind having an ally during this war, even if just for trade. But…why do you call Luna Laelius?"

Fianait smiled. "That is her Elven name. It means lunar, so you can obviously tell why she picked it. Perhaps someday you and Ginny will earn Elven names as well. I believe your friend has spotted you."

Draco glanced back to the crowd around the fire. Ginny was waving at him, her bright red hair blowing in the cool autumn breeze. The crowd parted briefly and he caught a glimpse of her. She wore an intricate, delicate outfit that looked like something he imagined a Gypsy would wear. The top was barely more than a bra and sequined with beads and jewels that glimmered emerald green in the moonlight. Beads hung from parts of it, decorating her torso in loops of loose green jewels that swayed against her stomach when she moved. The skirt was nothing but layers upon layers of silky green cloth also sequined with the same emerald colored stones and flowing around her thighs where it ended in choppy sections, occasionally revealing flashes of skin. She wore delicate slippers on her feet and an assortment of necklaces, bracelets, and anklets that jangled when she walked. Ginny's red hair was decorated with intricate braids and a crown of wildflowers, and from the curve of her nose and cheeks up to her forehead was a mask of glittery silver makeup with occasional emerald stones stuck at the corners of her eyes and sprinkled across her temple.

She looked like a green goddess, and Draco, entranced, left Fianait without so much as a parting goodbye. His feet carried him to Ginny, his body burning to hold her, and he had to resist the urge to grab her up in his arms and run his hands along every inch of her skin. He reluctantly pulled his eyes away from her cleavage and instead found it just as delightful to stare at her lively face. Never before had she looked so carefree and happy. Her eyes sparkled with mischief and joy and her lips were pulled up in an unchecked, lighthearted smile. Her bright laughter filled his heart with joy.

She seemed so different from when she first entered his life as a frightened girl dragged through a crowd of cruel Death Eaters and forced to bow at his feet. No, now she was a deity, a supernatural being, shining with a light of her own and a vivacious fire he had never seen burn so strongly in anyone before, and he found he was enchanted by it, by her.

Ginny stumbled into his arms, still laughing, her breath smelling strongly of alcohol. Up close he could see that her lips, too, were stained with a light green makeup, and he longed to kiss them, to kiss every inch of her skin. He cursed that he had chosen to wear loose pants of a similarly thin silk as her own clothing. Ginny smiled up at him, her eyes slightly dazed, and looped an arm around his body. The nearness of her body and the feeling of her soft chest pressing into his excited him, but he tried to push down the reaction.

"You look happy." Draco couldn't keep a grin off of his face when he looked at hers. It was like her happiness was contagious.

She rested her head on his shoulder, kissing his neck. "I'm having so much fun, Draco! The food is soo good and they taught me all of these songs and dances." Ginny swayed and Draco had to grab her hip to hold her up. "I am feeling a bit lightheaded though."

"I'd say. I think your drunk, Ginny."

She shook her head vehemently. "Oh no, I'm not drunk. I'm just a little…intoxicated.

"Ginny!" Draco's eyes followed Ginny's to where a young elf was waving at her. "Come leap the fire with us, Gin!"

Her face lit up in a smile and she tugged on his hand, dragging him over to the bonfire. "That sounds like so much fun! C'mon, Draco, let's jump over the fire."

"Uhh…I don't think that's such a good idea. We're a lot shorter than the Elves and that fire is pretty high…Ginny? Are you listening to me?"

She was taking off her slippers, handing them to him, and staring determinately at the flames before them. The girl before her went, her long legs striding, and she leapt the fire in a graceful bound, landing unharmed on the other side. "Your turn!"

Ginny grinned and hitched up her already short skirts. "Ginny…really, that's not a good idea…Ginny…Gin-!"

She took off running, stumbling slightly, but got her footing and picked up speed. Between fearing for her life and yelling at her to stop, Draco admired the muscles moving under the soft skin of her exposed thighs. She reached the edge of the fire ring and kicked off with her left foot, lifting the other leg high. The fire leapt up to catch her clothes, and Draco realized she wasn't going to clear it. It engulfed first her right leg, then her torso, then her head, then her entire body, until he couldn't separate her from the flames. Time seemed to slow as her body descended, still moving towards the other side, and she emerged.

It was as if the clock had to pick up speed to make up for the few moments that his heart had stopped. Ginny was suddenly crashing to the ground, landing with a hard thud, and Draco was running to her side with no recollection of ever telling his legs to move. He kneeled down beside her, but her body looked unharmed, her hair and skin still perfectly intact, her clothes not even charred at the edges. Not only that, she was laughing. Laughing!

"Wow, you should see the look on your face! Don't you know, we cover ourselves in flame resistant balms before we leap the fire. Silly wizard." The young elf that had convinced Ginny to jump over the bonfire skipped off with a little laugh. Draco glared at her back until it disappeared into the crowd before turning back to Ginny.

She grinned up at him, her shoulders bobbing with the occasional giggle. "That's not funny! You scared the shit out of me, Ginny! I almost pissed myself!"

Ginny chuckled and ran her hands through Draco's long hair, pulling his head down. "Yeah, but it was pretty funny." Draco let his face tick in a small smile. "And besides, I liked the way you looked at me when I lifted my skirts up." She pulled his face down to hers, their lips colliding in a passionate kiss. The two lay snogging in the grass as the Elves celebrated all around them.


	26. Reunions

A/N: Well, here it is! Finally, we're getting close to the climax! Just a few more chapters, maybe five or so, and then I'll be finished. Enjoy!

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Ginny's body hit the ground with a hard thump and an "oomph." Flung a few stretches away, Draco's did the same. Fianait landed gracefully as ever, her child carried in a small sling on her back.

Before she could catch her breath a heavy weight fell onto her and arms gripped her tightly, cutting off her air. Ginny struggled for breath as she slowly realized who it was that had hugged her in a vice grip. Red hair fell into her face and itchy stubble scratched against her cheek. The man holding her was tall and lean and covered in battle scars. His clothes were worn and had holes in them, but seeing as he had always dressed that way, she wasn't surprised. What did shock her was how much _older_ her brother looked. His ones bright eyes were dull and tired and his body was thinner than she remembered. He looked worn down from war, as they all did.

Even as she absorbed all of this, she did not truly believe she was in her brother's arms. It was like a strange, surreal dream that she knew she would wake from at any moment. Even though she felt the tears sting her eyes, felt his arms around her, warm and alive, felt her heart fill with a strange sensation of excitement, as if she were meeting a stranger for the first time, she still did not believe it.

There were tears in his eyes to reflect hers, but he still had that lopsided, goofy grin. "Gin? Is it really you?" Ron's voice was deeper than she remembered. She nodded, unable to speak. "Wow…Mum would have a cow if she could see how thin you are now."

Ginny found her crying turned to laughing. It hurt to think of her mother, but it also felt good to remember her in such a happy light; not the way she had been on the night of her death. "Turns out they don't feed you much in Azkaban."

Ron's face was pained. "Ginny…I wanted to save you. You have no clue how much it killed me to know what you were going through. I'm so sorry. I…I don't feel like I can apologize enough. I keep beating myself up about it."

Ginny shook her head, placing an arm on Ron's. "Don't. There was nothing you could do. I understand."

Ron smiled weakly and lifted himself off the ground, offering her a hand. He pulled her up, glancing her over as if to make sure she was stable to walk on her own. Ginny had almost forgotten about Draco; when Ron turned to the boy standing beside her, stiffly offering his outstretched hand, she was shocked.

Draco stared at Ron's hand equally surprised. His familiar sarcastic drawl came back, as if a natural reaction to being around her brother. "A Weasley, shaking the hand of a Malfoy? I never though I would see the day."

Ron's face was hard. "Neither did I…but I heard about what you did for Ginny. I wanted to thank you."

Draco took Ron's hand and shook it briefly. The two men seemed to be squeezing the life out of one another's hands, as if trying to prove their dominance, and neither broke eye contact until their shake ended. "I did what was right."

"A Malfoy, doing the right thing for a Weasley? I never thought I would see the day." Ron's quick comeback made a small smile twitch on Draco's lips.

Luna interrupted. "This is all very sweet, but I think we would be more comfortable making introductions inside the house. After all, it looks like rain." They all glanced at the clear sky in confusion.

Ron nodded. "Yeah, come on in." He led them into the building, which looked like an old run down haunted house. Sitting inside at the kitchen table were Professor Lupin and Hermione.

The woman stood, a bright smile on her face, and wrapped her arms around Ginny's thin frame. She took the girl's hands in her own, studying her face. "You look so thin, Ginny! Here, do you want something to eat?"

Ginny noticed the ring on Hermione's finger. "Herms? You got married?"

The woman smiled, a small blush on her face, and exchanged an unmissed glance with Ron. "Yeah, Ron and I. It was a small wedding just a few months ago."

"Oh…Well, congratulations. I wish I could have been there…sorry I didn't get you a gift."

Hermione laughed. "Nonsense. Sit down. I'll make you some soup, you like soup, don't you?"

Ginny nodded and sat at the table, being attacked by an onslaught of questions from Lupin. Other Order members began flooding the room until the table was full, all talking at once. She saw old faces, Tonks, Neville Longbottom, Hagrid, McGonagall, Moody, Colin Creevey, and those of people she had never met that had just joined recently. Ginny was surrounded by smiling faces and laughing people all who wanted to hear her story, offer their condolences, or tell their own adventures.

This dragged on for hours. She was fed almost the entire time, even when she insisted she was full. She not only learned of Ron and Hermione's marriage, but of Lupin and Tonks's as well. Colin Creevey had lost an eye in a battle, though she insisted he looked quite dashing with an eye patch. Luna and her father's Quibbler had become the official newspaper of the resistance and was incredibly popular, despite its oddities, earning Luna a small fortune. Ginny even received gifts, which surprised her. The entire Order, it seemed, had decided to throw her a homecoming party. In all of the chaos, she hadn't noticed Draco's silence until she saw him slip out of the door.

Ginny ducked out herself, inhaling the fresh afternoon air. The sun was already setting, which surprised her. It had seemed the reunion went on for longer than she thought. Fianait's daughter, Sorcha, was being taught spells by Lupin while Tonks changed made funny faces behind his back, making the little girl giggle. Ginny glanced around for Draco and found him sitting by himself on one of the lower roofs that faced the sunset.

"Mind if I join you?" He looked down at her in surprise, nodding.

"I didn't hear you coming. I climbed up the rose trellis there." Ginny climbed her way up, avoiding the thorns, and took Draco's offered hand. He pulled her down into his lap, wrapping his arms around her waist as if the motion came as naturally as breathing air.

"You didn't want to stay inside with everyone else?" Ginny leaned back against Draco's chest, her head in the crook of his neck. He played with her hair while he stared out at the setting sun.

"Nah. I didn't exactly feel welcome, you know? Ex-Death Eater and all."

"They don't know that. They don't even know you have the Mark."

"They'll find out soon enough, once they realize I'm actually here. Then I'll have to explain that everything and your brother will probably turn that hilarious shade of purple."

"I'm sure they'll understand, Draco. I'll defend you if any of them even so much as suggest you were involved with the Death Eaters."

He grinned, glancing down at her. Ginny turned in his arms so they face each other and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. She kissed his lips lightly, smiling against his mouth. "You're my man, and they'll just have to get used to that." The redhead whispered the words against his lips and moved to pull away, but he pulled her closer and kept their lips locked. They played a game of tug of war before noticing that someone stood below them, watching their show.

"Gin-Ginny?! What are you doing?! Malfoy, get off of my sister!" Ginny glanced down to find Ron fuming, his face red in fury. "I swear, Malfoy, I'm going to kill you!"

Ginny sighed. "Well, I guess now is as good a time as any." She took Draco's hand and descended the rose trellis, landing at the bottom. Ron had his hands on his hips, the likeness to their mother was astounding, and his fists clenched. Ginny kept her hand locked with Draco's. "Ron, calm down. Before you say or do anything, just think for a moment."

Too late. Ron's fist collided with Draco's nose as soon as he had dropped from the roof. Ginny watched her boyfriend stumble back and hit the wall, clutching his bleeding nose. "Malfoy, you're a dead man!"

"Ron!" Ginny grabbed his arm, trying to reason with him, but he shook her off. "Ronald Weasley, listen to me!"

Her brother ignored her, grabbing Draco up and pinning him against the wall. He froze, unmoving. Ginny cautiously stepped closer to find out why. Damn. Ron had seized Draco's wrist, pulling down his sleeve in the process and exposing his a mutilated Dark Mark. The expression on Ron's face truly made Ginny fear for Draco's life. He turned on her, eyes burning. "You brought a _Death Eater_ into this house?! A Death Eater! He'll kill us all! How _could_ you, Ginny?!"

Ginny lifted her hands, making eye contact with Ron, trying to make him see reason. "Ronald, calm down. Just because he has the Dark Mark-"

"He's a bloody Death Eater, Ginny! His kind killed our family, or did you forget?! Did you forget that they burned our house to the ground and kidnapped you?! Did you forget that they locked you up in Azkaban?! Huh?!"

"Shut up, Ron! Of course I didn't forget any of that! But Draco wasn't responsible for any of those things happening! Draco saved me!"

"He's got the bloody Dark Mark, Ginny!"

"Yes, Weasley, I have the Dark Mark," Draco intervened, "But did you ever think, even for a second in that tiny head of yours, that maybe I didn't want it? That maybe my father _forced_ me to wear it? Did you wonder about the scars that mutilated it?"  
Ron glared at him. "Because I'm sure you put up a real fight. You've always wanted to be a Death Eater for as long as I've known you."

Draco's face was livid. "Fuck you, Weasley. People change; I changed. Yeah, I'm a Death Eater. I wasn't born as privileged as you. I didn't have a supportive, kind family that loved me. My parents saw me as nothing more than a means to an end. I was born to be a Death Eater and that's what I am." Draco stepped closer to Ron until they were nose to nose. "But it's not _who_ I am, Weasley, and that's where your ignorance shines through."

Ron lowered the wand that had been trained at Draco's chest. "That doesn't give you the right to snog my little sister."

Ginny put a hand on Draco's arm. "Ronald, it's okay. We're together."

Her brother's face revealed a combination of shock, disbelief, and disgust. "What?!"

"We're in love Ron…I….I'm in love." She swallowed the lump in her throat. "Draco has been my only friend through all of this. You have to understand the bond we've developed."

Ron stared between the two of them. Stared and Ginny's genuine face and Draco's stone one. Stared at their hands interlinked together and the torn up Dark Mark on Draco's wrist. Finally, he turned and stormed into the house.

Ginny heaved a breath, burying her head in Draco's chest. "That was a lot harder than I thought it would be," he mumbled into her hair.

She glanced up, face lit up in a grin. "What are you talking about? That went way better than I had planned."

"While this is all very romantic, it's time to get to business." The couple glanced over to find Lupin watching them from where he leaned against the side of the house. "Ginny, Draco, you've been inside Death Eater headquarters. We need you to tell us everything you saw. Everything you overheard. Anything that can be of aid to us." Lupin stood beside them, his face serious. In the background Ginny could see Tonks playing with little Sorcha. Ginny and Draco shared a glance. "I understand that this won't be easy for either of you, but it's very important."

"Could you give us a moment, Pro- I mean, Lupin?" The werewolf nodded and went inside the house, giving them a backward glance. Ginny rested her head against Draco's shoulder, staring at the sunset.

"Ginny? What are you thinking?" He stroked her hair soothingly.

"We should tell them everything."

He paused and lifted her chin. Looking into his prying eyes only made it harder to think. "You mean about Tom?"

Ginny swallowed and nodded. "I…I just don't know if I can do it, Draco."

Draco pulled her close again and wrapped his arms around her, rocking her from side to side. "I'll be by your side the entire time, I swear."

She took a shaky breath and nodded. The two walked, hand in hand, up the little path to the front door. They stepped inside to find the faces of the gathered Order members were now serious. The party was over. The rejoicing was finished. "I have something gravely important to tell you." Draco squeezed Ginny's hand, offering her support. "Voldemort has been replaced by someone far stronger and more ruthless then even he was. His Horcrux, Tom Riddle, is the new Dark Lord."

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Ginny collapsed onto the bed, exhausted. She had spilled everything about Tom that she had kept bottled up inside for years. Of course, she left out little details, like their conversations together when he resided in her head and his strange love for her. As far as they new, she had been his vassal until he had been brought into the world, and now he had a lustful vendetta against her. She and Draco had explained Tom's new regime: the numbers of his followers, the location at Malfoy Manor, Draco drawing up a blueprint from memory of the place and pointing out every trap he could remember, and the way he enslaved anyone he captured, anything they could think of.

Of course, Ginny couldn't share all of her secrets, like who Tom was, truly was. His innermost thoughts, emotions, weaknesses, past, and his twisted love. Those things had been shared with her in utmost trust, and despite all he had done to her, she could not betray him by spilling his heart to the world. Nobody pushed her or asked more than she could give, and finally, hours later, she could sleep.

Ginny stared up at the dark ceiling of the room. On the bunk across the room slept Luna; she had decided she would stay for the next few days until everything was in order and Fianait had her time to talk to the Order and discuss trade negotiations. Even though she was deadly tired, Ginny found she couldn't fall asleep. Her thoughts whirled with everything that had happened that day. Ron had sat silently during the meeting, listening, refusing to meet either her or Draco's gazes. She knew he was angry with her, but he would eventually come around and learn to accept her relationship with Draco. At least, that was what she hoped.

Ginny heard footsteps and a tap on the door. It was light, so as not to wake Luna, and she sat up, glancing at the door. A piece of paper slipped under it with her name written on it. Ginny silently strode across the room, picking it up and opening it.

Ginny,

Meet me out by the edge of the garden. I have a surprise for you.

Draco

Ginny smiled, running her fingers over his curly cursive letters. She slipped a warm cloak over her pajamas and put on her slippers, tiptoeing down the stairs.

Ginny stopped when she reached the porch. She took a deep breath, inhaling the cool night air, and stared up at the stars in the sky. They were shining brightly out here. The house they stayed at was out in the countryside in the Muggle world. Apparently, it had previously been owned by one of the Order members who set it up as the Headquarters after Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place was raided. Far away from the city like this, a sky full of stars seemed to stretch on forever above her.

Ginny giddily made her way down the little path towards the small garden of flowers and vegetables that leaned against a thin forest of woods. Stumbling in the darkness with only the light from the house to guide her, Ginny almost fell on Fianait and her daughter Sorcha laying in the grass, pointing out the stars and constellations.

"Ginny, what are you doing out so late?" Fianait sat up, smiling at her.

"I was just taking a walk, you?"

"We Elves are more comfortable when in nature. We were looking at the stars. It is far more open out and free out here than in that clustered house."

Ginny nodded, glancing up with them. "Well…did you see Draco going this way by any chance?" The Elf shook her head and, with a shrug, Ginny continued her walk, heading to the edge of the forest.

Ginny stopped and stared into the dark trees, trying to find Draco's form. Finally, eyes adjusting to the darkness, she spotted him sitting on a log, a blanket wrapped around his body as he stared down at the ground. Ginny smiled to herself and snuck up behind him, being careful not to crunch the leaves, and wrapped her arms around his chest. "So, what's my surprise?" the redhead whispered in his ear in what she hoped was a sultry, sexy way.

His head turned and Ginny found herself staring into an unfamiliar face. She recognized the man, who looked to be in his late twenties, as one of the newer recruits for the Order. He was quiet and had stayed mostly to himself the entire day, so she couldn't put a name to his face, try as she might. "Me." The man grinned.

Ginny jumped back, face red. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I made a mistake…I…thought you were Draco." She blushed in embarrassment, fumbling over her words. "I'm really really sorry about that. I'll just go now."

He caught her wrist in his hand, surprising her with his strong grip. "Don't go yet. You've just gotten here." His lips pulled up in a smile. "I've been waiting for you."

Ginny felt a strange unease settle in her stomach, but for fear of being rude, she didn't let it show. "I'm sorry about the mistake. But I'm feeling tired, so I think I'll go to bed."

"Mistake? There was no mistake. I sent you that letter, and I do have a surprise for you."

Ginny didn't like the way he was looking at her. "Look, really, I-"

He grinned, standing, and pulled her against him. Ginny leaned back as he stuck his face in hers. "The Dark Lord will be very pleased with me bringing his prized pet back to him."

Her eyes widened in shock. "No…You…"

"Are a Death Eater? Yes. And I will receive a nice reward for catching you and bringing you to him." The man traced his wand along her jaw line. "But perhaps before we go, just one kiss? You _are _a beauty."

Ginny struggled against him, trying to push him away, but he was incredibly strong. No. Not this time. She wouldn't let Tom have her, wouldn't let this man take her to him. She pulled her fist back, clenching it up, and tried to remember what her brothers had taught her. Swing the arm back, keep the wrist straight, the fist stiff, put your whole body into your fist, and punch him square in the nose. She did, missing slightly and hitting him in the mouth instead of the nose, but he still bled. He let her go to grab his mouth, trying to catch the bloody teeth that fell out, and she made a run for it.

Ginny sprinted towards the house, running with every ounce of energy she had in her. She saw the flash of light and heard the curse before she actually felt it hit her, slamming her body into the ground. She wasn't sure what he had hit her with, but whatever it was it knocked the air out of her lungs.

He landed on top of her, grabbing her hair. "You bitch! That hurt like hell!"

Ginny gasped for breath, trying to push him off as he stood, pulling her up by her hair. "C'mon! Move it! We can't apparate from here!" She tried to get her breath back as he pulled her towards the woods and the magical barrier that surrounded the house. No matter how she tried to push the air into her lungs, though, they didn't seem to want to cooperate. And then, finally, when she could breath again, she screamed at the top of her lungs.

He cursed, slamming a hand over her mouth, but she bit him and struggled harder. The more she fought, the angrier he got. He pulled her into the woods and kept going, drawing closer to the shimmering barrier. On the other side she noticed two other Death Eaters waiting. "You're late! You were supposed to be here an hour ago!"

"We couldn't get past the damn barrier! Hand the little bitch over." One of them held out a hand.

"Let me undo the damn spells first unless you want to trip the alarm." He started performing counter curses while Ginny struggled against him. "Fucking bitch, stop it!" He pressed his wand into her neck. "I swear I will kill you right here and now if you don't stop squirming."

Ginny spit in his face. "I'd like to see you try. Tom would make sure you had an excruciatingly slow death…_if_ he were feeling generous."

He growled, his wand sparking. Before he could say anything, though, there was a whooshing sound by Ginny's ear and an arrow shot past her face, hitting the man in the chest. He gasped in shock, staring at the blood seeping out of his shirt. "What the hell?"

Ginny took the chance to push him away and grab for his wand, pointing it at him. Beside her, Fianait dropped from a tree, another arrow ready and pointed at the wounded Death Eater. "Fuck this," Ginny heard behind her. The other two men were done with waiting. One of them reached through the barrier, grabbing Ginny. In the distant house she could hear alarms going off as the man pulled her through to the other side. "You're a lot of trouble, you know that, Weasley? Damn women."

The other Death Eater had already crossed the barrier and was fighting Fianait to distract her from rescuing Ginny. "Just apparate that bitch out of here! I'll take care of this one!" Fianait growled and kicked high, her foot colliding with his head. He tried to curse her, but she moved too swiftly for him to get in a good shot. They parried physically, but Fianait's limber body far outmaneuvered the Death Eater's burly, slow one.

As the world around Ginny began to blur, she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. Little Sorcha, her face frightened, grabbed for Ginny's shirt, as if she could pull her back. Ginny screamed at her to let go, but it was too late.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Ginny's head was pounding as if someone had taken a Muggle drill to her skull. She moaned, opening her eyes, and closed them again when the world around her spun. "Are you awake Ginny? Ginny?"

The witch forced her eyes open again. Fianait's beautiful face leaned over her, sporting bruises and cuts, and she brushed the hair out of Ginny's eyes. "Sorcha said when you landed you hit your head on the stone and passed out. Your head was bleeding, but I stopped it a few hours ago. How do you feel?"

"Where…where are we?" Ginny moaned, trying to sit up, but her body would not cooperate. Fianait pushed her back down, dabbing at her head with a damn cloth that looked like it had been torn from her clothes.

"We were taken by those men, those Death Eaters as you call them. From what I overheard we are in their dungeons."

"But…you looked like you were kicking that guy's ass."

Fianait smiled, though it was more of a grimace. "I was. Until he shot me with a spell. I've never felt such an incredible pain coming from inside my own body before."

"The Cruciatus. But…why did he take you?"

Fianait growled. "As a spoil of war, as he put it. He wanted to punish me for making a fool of him, and he claimed he would rape me. I'd like to see him try."

Ginny shook her head. "Fianait, you should be more afraid of them. They do horrible things to people here."

"I fear nothing, little Ginny. I only worry for your and my daughter's lives. She grabbed onto you as they…"

"Apparated."

"Yes, apparated away with you. It was foolish of her, and now I am afraid for her. I do not care what those men do to me, but I do not want them laying their filthy hands on her."

Ginny forced herself to sit up. Sorcha lay curled up against her mother's side, sucking her thumb. She pulled it out of her mouth long enough to ask, "Miss Ginny, are you okay?" Her voice sounded small and innocent but unafraid, as if she did not truly understand what went on in places like this. Ginny was sure she didn't, and she offered a nod and half-hearted smile.

"You're awake." The three females glanced over at the gruff voice. A Death Eater watched them through the bars of their cage. "Lord Voldemort said to bring you once you woke up. Let's go. Just you, not them."

"Ginny, what will happen to you?" Fianait's face held the first sign of worry and fear she had ever seen there. Ginny smiled weakly at her.

"I'll be alright, don't worry about me. Just take care of yourself and Sorcha." The Death Eater grabbed her by her collar and tugged her out of the cage. Ginny followed along, not bothering to put up a fight, as he dragged her past other dungeon cells and towards the stairs that she knew would lead up into the heart of Malfoy Manor. She steeled herself for Tom's wrath.


	27. Little Fire

A/N: Sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry! Is that enough for forgiveness from my readers for going so long without an update? I hope so.

Okay, so, I know you all hate me for not updating in like, weeks, but I do actually have a legit excuse. Not only did I just finish my finals this week, but I also just got back my computer. 'Cause it crashed. It wouldn't even turn on. I gave it to Microcenter and, a week and 270 bucks later, got it back reimaged, so then I had to reinstall everything.

Thankfully for you guys, I didn't lose any of my story files, but I did have to wait until it was back in working condition to get this chapter uploaded. Well, now school is out and my computer is back, so you can expect weekly updates, probably even two or three updates a week if I'm not out of town. So, without further adieu, here is the next chapter. Song: Your Girl by Jessica Riddle. Lyrics website: stlyrics.

PS: Enjoy and review!

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Ginny timidly stepped into the room, her eyes on Tom. He stood with his back to her, gazing out a large glass window where the sun rose up over the forest in the distance. Was it dawn already? Her gaze drifted back to Tom. His hair had grown longer in her absence, now it almost reached his shoulders and was pulled back in a sleek black ponytail. He wore rich, elegant robes of dark green velvet with silver trim. Of course, very Slytherin of him. Tom's hands were folded behind his back and his neck was stiff. "Leave," he commanded, and Ginny turned to see the Death Eater that had brought her scurry out of the room. The door slammed shut behind him of its down accord, the lock falling into place, and Ginny jumped. She swallowed and slowly turned back around to find Tom staring at her.

"Ginevra." She tried to still her rapidly beating heart and not tremble before him, but it was nearly impossible. Tom's face was stiff and blank with contained anger, but she could see the rage burning in his crimson eyes that always gave him away. He stepped towards her slowly, his footfalls echoing in the room, and came to stand before her. "I am very upset with you, Ginevra." Each word, each syllable, was enunciated and laced with fury.

Ginny didn't dare back up though, for fear of waking the brooding storm. "I…"

He placed a finger to her lips. "Don't apologize, love. There is no use. What you did by leaving me was an intentional action. You can not right this wrong." His eyes roamed over her body and she remembered she was wearing nothing more than a large nightshirt. Those entrancing, horrible red eyes landed on her amulet and Ginny unthinkingly reached up to protect it.

His hand grabbed her wrist, twisting it, and she cried out in pain. Tom still kept his voice calm, but she could see his anger, could see the rage twisting in his face. "Then this is the object of my demise? This is why I could not reach you with my mind? A _necklace_?" A muggle's trinket?" Tom reached a hand up slowly, sliding it along her chest, before grabbing the amulet and ripping it off. "We shall resolve this predicament."

The calm before the storm ended. Pain erupted in Ginny's skull, a pain worse than any she had ever known or imagined. It felt more terrible than any migraine, as if her skull itself were being crushed. Tom's rage crashed down on her, knocking her to the floor, where she writhed in agony. She could feel all of his built-up aggression from months of searching for her in one swift, deadly hit, and she did believe she would die. His voice suddenly invaded her mind, his thoughts, his emotions, his memories. The weight of it kept her on the ground, unable to even lift her head. Ginny could think of nothing but the agony.

Finally, it lifted. When she could breathe again and force her eyes open, blinking in the light, Tom stood before her. "Do you know now the torture I have been going through searching for you, Ginevra? Can you comprehend it?!" He grabbed her by the neck, lifting her to her feet. His fist raised, swinging down and hitting Ginny's face. Her head rolled to the side from the force of his hit, making her vision spin, but he would not allow her the sweet relief of unconsciousness. "Your disobedience in unacceptable, love. You will continue to suffer until I feel you have been properly punished." Tom threw her to the floor and strode to the door, ripping it open. The Death Eater tumbled inside from where he had been leaning against the door, listening. He gulped, smiling weakly up at Tom. "Take Ginevra back to the dungeons. Feel free to torture her and her friends however you see fit."

"However, sir?" The Death Eater grinned at Ginny, his eyes roaming over her body as she weakly tried to lift herself off of the floor.

Tom smirked and grabbed the man's hair, pulling his face close. His smile fell. "Just know that if I find out you have soiled her virginity I will relieve you of your manhood, and it will be excruciatingly painful."

His eyes widened and he nodded quickly. "Ye-yes My Lord." Tom let him go and strode over to his desk, dismissing them. The Death Eater lifted her to her feet by the collar of her shirt, pushing her out the door. "Come along, you. Back to the dungeons with ya."

Ginny didn't bother to struggle as he dragged her through hallways and down stairs. Whenever she slowed he pushed or kicked her along, not at all worried about the way she swayed dizzily and almost fell down on more than one occasion. Finally, she felt her bare feet touch cold stone steps. Her hand gliding along the cool wall for balance, she slowly made her way down the steep, jagged staircase. He gave no warning except a gruff "Move it!" before pushing between her shoulder blades, sending her toppling.

Ginny tumbled down the steps, her head crashing repeatedly against the wall, her body bruising and cutting from the jagged corners and hard stone. She landed in a heap at the bottom and didn't get up, mentally checking every bone first to make sure nothing was broken. But the sound of a woman yelling and a child screaming caused her to lift her head, and she watched, through hazy, unfocused eyes, as a woman fought against three Death Eaters. "Fianait?"

"No! Don't you touch my daughter! Get your hands off of me you miserable wizards!" The woman struggled as they tried to pull her away from the cell, which she clung to with dear life. Normally she could easily overpower them, but she looked weak and beaten from one skirmish already. Blood trickled down her face from somewhere on her head and they had taken her weapons away from her. Despite how the regal Elf towered over them, the Death Eaters had wands and all she had was her fists.

The man behind her cursed. "What's going on here?!" He sounded annoyed as he strode past Ginny, stepping on her hand, and pulled out his wand.

"We wanted a go with her, but the little bitch won't behave."

Fianait spit. "You pathetic men. I would never let your hands soil my body."

"Then how about your daughter?" one of the men, a burly, fat, dumb looking one said with a grin. Ginny, despite her disgust, found she couldn't stop staring at his face. It seemed so familiar. Finally she realized why. It was Vincent Crabbe from her days at Hogwarts. His disgusting, leering eyes turned on her. "Or that one?"

"Crabbe, that's disgusting. Don't make me puke. A child? And an Elf at that?" The Death Eater that had transported Ginny glanced over at her. "Nah, we're not allowed to fuck her, boss's orders. She's for _him_ only."

Ginny, throughout the brief conversation, watched Fianait slowly lift herself off the floor. She glanced over at Ginny for a fraction of a second before reaching up, grabbing a man's leg and snapping it. He screamed in pain but she was already moving onto the next one, leaping on his back. He grabbed at her hair, trying to pull her off of him as she cut off his air circulation with her hands. Crabbe cursed, pointing his wand at her, and before Ginny could scream a warning he uttered the Cruciatus.

Fianait's ear-piercing screams filled the room as she writhed on the floor. Ginny was certain her friend had never felt the Cruciatus and didn't know that it would be so horrendous. Little Sorcha cried out and tried to reach for her mother, but Ginny pulled her back. The child cried at her mother's pain and Ginny held her in her arms, hands clamped over the girl's ears, face buried in her shirt so she couldn't see her mother being tortured. Tears dripped onto the little girl's brown hair and Ginny realized they were her own.

Crabbe kept her under the curse for minutes as she watched, unable to look away. Finally, he lifted it, face cruel and cold. "How about another round, Elven bitch?"

Fianait didn't speak; she couldn't. She just lay there on the floor, unable to move, body twitching in the aftermath. "No, that's enough for now. Jergoff's gone and gotten his leg broken. Better take him to get it fixed." The Death Eater leaned over, grabbing Fianait by the hair. "But we'll be back for you." The two men lifted their friend up and dragged him out of the room while the fourth pushed Fianait, Ginny, and Sorcha back into the small cage, locking it.

"Wait. Please." Ginny reached out to him through the bars. He sneered and crossed his arms over his chest, lifting his eyebrows. "What is your name?"

"Anthony. Why?" His face looked suspicious.

Ginny tried to force her best smile, though it turned out to be a grimace. "Please, Anthony, won't you let her go? Sorcha is just a child. She shouldn't have to see her mother go through this."

He grinned, leaning in close to the bars, his breath reeking of ale hitting her face. "You want me to let her go?" Ginny nodded and he looked considerate. "Alright, I'll let her go…if you can get these keys from me." He held out the wrought iron keys that unlocked the different cells in the dungeon. Ginny stared at them as the Death Eater jingled them in front of her face; she grabbed for them. He pulled the keys out of her reach, laughing, and unbuttoned his pants, dropping them in. "Still wanna get these keys from me?" He thrust his hips out at her, making Ginny recoil. The man's face dropped at the rejection and he strode over to a table full of food nearby, sitting at it. "I'll be your guard for the next few hours, so if you change your mind, let me know."

Ginny looked away in disgust and kneeled down beside Fianait, stroking her hair out of her face. "How are you feeling?"

"It…it hurts…Ginny." The woman's voice was hoarse from screaming. "Where is my…daughter?"

Sorcha touched her mother's hand. "Right here, mommy."

"I know it hurts. The Cruciatus is a curse designed to cause pain without any physical signs of injury." Ginny didn't miss the way her voice sounded like a book. Hermione would have been proud.

"Why…why would your people create such a horrible thing?"

Ginny glanced back at the Death Eater watching them. "Because it makes them feel more powerful." Fianait tried to sit up, groaning in pain. Ginny pushed the woman back down. "You need to rest."

Her eyes were already closed. Ginny dragged herself over to the wall, leaning against it, and Sorcha crawled into her lap. "I'm scared, Miss Ginny."

She stroked the child's hair, watching Fianait sleep. She herself wanted rest, but Ginny was afraid to let her eyes close, afraid that the Death Eaters would come back wreaking havoc if she let her guard down. She was even more afraid for Fianait. Ginny would never admit it to the child, but her mother had been under an Unforgivable for minutes, a feat most people could not survive. Usually, by now, they would be insane or dead. The woman looked on the verge of the latter.

"I know…I am too." Sorcha's body shuddered. "Don't cry, Sorcha. We have to keep our hopes up. Would you like me to sing to you?"

The child nodded with a sniff. Ginny searched her brain, but she could only think of one song, one Tom had sung to her years ago. She rocked the child as she sang in a quiet, shaky voice.

Don't tell her lies, 'cause she'll believe.

Boy, she's still got baby teeth,

And she hears the things you say,

When you think that she's asleep.

She grew up overnight, 'cause that's your way

And that's not right to do to your girl.

She's alone now,

She don't know how

But she'll find her way home,

She's home, home now.

You don't know now,

And you see how

Much pain you made her feel,

It's real, real now.

Don't try to hide, cause she will see,

Boy she's all you'll never be,

And she dreams of all the worlds,

That you told her she can't reach.

She stood up to you one day, cause that's her right,

And that's the way you taught your girl.

She's alone now,

She don't know how

But she'll find her way home,

She's home, home now.

You don't know now,

And you see how

Much pain you made her feel,

It's real, real now.

It's real now.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

"I just don't understand how this could have happened," Lupin murmured. "We gave all new initiates a Truth Serum."

Draco paced in the small room, hands knotted. "Truth serums are easily beaten. It's all about staying calm."

"But…he took a vow to protect every member of the Order."

He shook his head. "A smart Death Eater can easily find a loophole or crack to slip through if a vow is not specific enough."

Tonks's hair had turned blue and frazzled with worry. "Poor Ginny."

"But how could we not have known that he was a spy, a Death Eater? Surely we would have noticed he had the Dark Mark."

Draco slammed his fist down on the table. "Do you honestly think that Voldemort is that stupid?! Of course he wouldn't put the Dark Mark on his spies, or if he did, he would make sure it was well hidden. He's smarter and cleverer than you, always has been and will be."

Lupin put a hand on Draco's arm. "Maybe you should go outside, go calm yourself down-"

"I don't want to calm down! We have to find a way to save her!"

"You know that that's not possible, Malfoy. We just don't have the numbers," Mad-Eye spoke up.

Draco's hand curled into a fist. He wanted to hit something, anything, but he contained himself. He couldn't, however, keep his voice from rising. "I am sick of hearing about how you don't have the numbers! What happened to the pride, the righteousness, the bravery you guys always preach about? Huh?! What happened to fighting for each other, even when the odds were against you?!"

Moody growled, sticking his face in Draco's. "We're not suicidal, do you understand that? From what you told us, the Death Eaters are hundreds, if not thousands, strong. How do you expect us, with no more than two hundred people scattered across England, to defeat them?" His eye rolled down to Draco's wrist, which he kept covered by his long sleeves. "Don't know why we should even be listening to you, a boy with the Dark Mark. Likely you're just trying to lead us into a trap."

"Yes, I have the bloody Dark Mark, but that doesn't make me a Death Eater." Draco growled back. "I would never do anything to hurt her. And as annoying as you guys are being right now, I'm pretty sure exposing you to the Death Eaters would constitute as something that would cause her pain."

A voice spoke up while the two men glared at each other. "Draco's right. We have to get her back. I don't care how many people die…I can't lose Ginny again."

Draco's head turned with the others' to see Ron sitting at the table, hands clenched. Hermione was rubbing his back comfortingly as he stared at the table-top, seemingly in shock over his sister's disappearance. He looked up then, his eyes meeting Draco's, and they shared a brief but deep understanding for one another's pain.

"It's simply impossible," Lupin whispered, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "We don't have enough Wizards to storm them."

"No…not Wizards," a dreamy voice mused, "but what about Elves?" The voice was Luna's, who sat at the window staring out at the horizon, where storm clouds were gathering.

"The Elves?" Moody grumbled. "Not likely. Stuck up creatures will probably laugh us out of their kingdom."

"It's true, they've always been isolationists, but Fianait and her daughter Sorcha came here in the hopes of opening trade between the Elves and the Wizards."

"That doesn't mean they're willing to fight for us, Luna."

"Oh? You don't think if I, one of their own, told them of how two of their kind were kidnapped and are being held hostage, that they would not willingly go to our aid to get them back? We are a close nit group and we kill for one another. Not to mention, many of my Elven friends love Ginny and would be distraught to here about the circumstances. I will speak for you and, in two days time, have a mass of angry Elves standing at your doorstep ready for a fight."

And just like that, it was settled.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Days passed. At least, Ginny thought it was days. They had been fed only twice since they had been brought here, and both times Ginny willingly went hungry to make sure Sorcha and Fianait were fed. She had gone much longer than they could even begin to imagine without eating, and so she barely felt the pangs of hunger in her stomach.

Ginny watched over Fianait, doing everything she could to ease the woman's pain, but her situation only seemed to become worse. Sorcha was a strong little girl, and she did not cry again, but Ginny could see that she understood that her mother wouldn't live much longer without proper medical care. Between taking care of Fianait and worrying over Sorcha, Ginny slept fitfully when she could manage, but all of her dreams were filled with Tom's unbearable wrath. Still, she knew if she and the others did not sleep, they would quickly go insane from the monotony of the cell walls they were kept in.

The Death Eaters rarely bothered them, which worried Ginny. What were they planning? What were they doing? One always sat nearby at a table on guard duty. Sometimes the Death Eater watched her, sometimes he ate, the smells of his food making her mouth water, but mostly he ignored her.

Finally, her curiosity was answered. A group of Death Eaters, perhaps eight or nine of them, made their way to Ginny's cell about the time when guard duty switched shifts. Ginny quickly stood and put her body between Fianait and Sorcha's and the men's. She held her chin high and tried to look as unafraid as possible, but they merely laughed at her.

One of them made his way to the front. He was a gruff, unshaven man with thin, greasy hair and rotting teeth. He put his hands on the bars, rattling them and making Sorcha jump, and leaned his greasy face in. "How's your friend doin'?"

Ginny stared at him in confusion. Why would he ask such a question? What was he playing at? "How do you think? She is in pain."

He nodded, faking consideration. "I thought so. That's why I brought this for her."

Ginny stared at the potion in his hands, recognizing it immediately. The light green liquid would ease the pain of the Cruciatus and help Fianait to heal. Ginny grabbed for it greedily, but the man pulled it out of her reach tauntingly while the other Death Eater's watched.

"Now, now, Weasley, you didn't think that you'd be gettin' this for free, didja? This is a bargaining ship."

She swallowed, glaring at him and forcing her voice to be strong. It wavered. "What do you want?"

"Just a little somethin' from you." His eyes roamed over her body and she fought the urge to fold her arms over her chest. That would make her look weak.

"_What_?" she gritted out between her teeth.

"The kitten has claws," a voice murmured from the crowd of men.

"Just a little show. You can do that for us can't you?"

It took her a moment to understand what he meant, and when she did she almost retched. They wanted her to strip for them like girls in bars did. The thought disgusted her and she quickly recoiled to the back of the cell, yelling, "No!"

"No?" The bargainer asked, lifting an eyebrow. He dangled the potion inside the cell door. "It's too bad. Your friend doesn't look like she'll hold on much longer."

Ginny grimaced and glanced back at Fianait. The woman slept fitfully, a fever evident from her red cheeks and sweaty hair. One of her wounds had become infected from the disgusting conditions in the dungeons.

Ginny took a deep breath and brought her eyes back to the Death Eaters. They leered at her expectantly, their eyes roaming over her body. She stared at the potion in the Death Eater's hand, at her friend, at Sorcha. She took a deep breath. "Sorcha, close your eyes and cover your ears."

The little girl nodded, doing as Ginny told her without objection. Ginny took another shaky breath and stared at the floor as she slid the long shirt off of her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. This time, she couldn't keep from covering herself with her arms. The Death Eaters cheered and whistled as she stared, face red with shame, trying not to let the tears fall.

Keeping one arm over her chest, Ginny held out her hand for the potion. "Now, did you honestly think that was enough? Give us a little more, love."

She glared at the man. "No. Give me the potion, or I'll-"

"I think you're really in no position to be making threats." He was right. "Move your arms."

She couldn't keep her chest from shaking with sobs as she moved her arms out of their line of sight, exposing her breasts. They seemed to enjoy that, though. The tears fell unchecked down her cheeks as she bit the inside of her mouth. Ginny hid her face behind her long hair. "Now."

There were sounds of chuckles. "Weasley, you don't seem to understand the definition of a strip-tease. You're supposed to take _everything_ off."

Ginny's outstretched hand clenched into a fist, but she continued to remind herself that this was for Fianait, for Sorcha. She could endure this if it meant her friend's survival. Ginny forced her hand to her underwear line. The Death Eaters leaned in closer, fighting to get a good view of her in the small cage. She traced the lines in the stones with her eyes as she pulled the underwear down, letting them puddle with her nightgown on the floor.

"Haha! Twenty Galleons, pay up! I told you that her hair was red down their too!" The Death Eaters passed around coins and stared at Ginny as she waited for the ruckus to die down.

"The potion." She murmured, her voice breaking. She forced her eyes up.

"Oh this?" The Death Eater glanced at it as if he had forgotten it were there. "Hope you have fast reflexes, Weasley." He threw it to the ground and Ginny lunged for it, scraping her knees on the cold stone floor. She fell within their reach and a Death Eater grabbed at her hair while another tried to feel her chest. Ginny screamed, trying to reach the bottle as it fell, shattering on the hard stone.

"No! No, you bastards!" She hit at them, tears rolling down her face. Ginny collapsed to the floor, trying to sop up the potion with her shirt.

"Get off of her!" A small voice yelled. Sorcha batted their hands away from Ginny's hair and body and pulled her out of their reach, draping her cloak over her nakedness. She didn't care. The potion. The potion was seeping through the cracks in the stone. It was getting mixed in with blood and the shards of glass on the floor that cut into her legs and hands. The potion. She had to get it to Fianait. She had to.

"Miss Ginny? Are you okay?"

"The potion." She murmured, her voice cracking. She realized she was openly sobbing, her body rocking. "Fianait needs it."

"It's okay, Miss Ginny." Since when did Sorcha look so old? Since when was her voice so mature, her face so understanding? She was just a child. She shouldn't be comforting an adult. She should be crying over her mother, not trying to help a sobbing teenager having a mental breakdown.

Ginny tried to squeeze the potion from her shirt into Fianait's mouth, but there was little left. Not enough to ease the pain for more than a few hours. Not enough to save her. She was going to die. Everyone died. So many graves had been dug in Ginny's soul. What difference did one more make? What did one more death matter to Tom and the Death Eaters?

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

It would seem one more death did not matter. Fianait died a few days later. She fought to the end, but her body gave out. Ginny was surprised she had held on for as long as she had, but the woman had always seemed invincible to her, from the moment she saved Ginny from the Nymphs. She had known the woman for no more than a few weeks, but still it seemed as if they were long friends.

She was Alex's replacement. Ginny realized that now. The two women were so much alike. Strong women. Fighters. After Alex died, Fianait had replaced her as Ginny's savior. Ginny hadn't realized it until Fianait was dying that they could have been the same person. Why was it that two strong women like them, women that never gave up, would die so easily when Ginny, weak, pathetic Ginny, lived? Where was the justice in the world? How did that make any sense?

But die they did. Both of them, in almost the exact same manner. From the Cruciatus. In her arms.

Ginny held Fianait in her arms as her last breath left her. She wasn't sad. She said she wasn't even in pain. She had a smile on her face. That was how strong she was. She died with a smile.

"Ginny." Fianait whispered, touching the redhead's cheek. "Ginny…I want you to take care of Sorcha for me. I want you to raise her as your own child." Ginny nodded. Anything. She would do anything for Fianait. For Alex. "Eithne. That's your Elven name. It means…Little Fire."

Ginny didn't feel like fire. She felt like ice. She felt cold, empty. Water seemed to keep falling from her eyes. How did that make her fire? "The fire burned out along time ago, Fianait. It seems every time it tries to ignite, it keeps burning out."

Fianait nodded. "I know. But one day…one day it will catch again. It just needs love." Ginny wiped at the tears on her cheeks. "Sorcha? Where is my daughter?"

"Here mommy." The little girl moved so that she was in her mother's vision.

"You know what I always told you. Do not mourn the dead. They will always be with you in spirit."

"Yes Mommy."

"I love you, baby."

"I love you, mommy."

And with that, she died. Ginny lowered her lids and draped her cloak over the woman, covering her face. Sorcha merely stared, unseeing, at her mother's dead body.

"Sorcha, do you remember what I told you? About not crying?" The little girl nodded. "Well, forget that. Cry Sorcha. I want you to cry."

"But Mommy said…" The little girl trailed off, tears forming in her eyes.

"I know. But I also know, sometimes you need to cry. Not for them. For yourself. It makes things better to cry. It makes things easier to deal with." So she did. The girl lay her head on her mother's chest and sobbed as Ginny sat beside her, rubbing her back soothingly.

Ginny dug another grave in her soul and buried Fianait. And this time, she decided, it would be the last. No more people would die because of her. She would do whatever it took to make sure of that.

Ginny rose, staring at the Death Eaters. "Tom. I want to talk to Tom."


	28. Until Death Do Us Part

A/N: Yay! Chapter 28! Probably only two chapters left until the end. Ahh...this is bittersweet...

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

"This had better be worth my time, Ginevra." Tom sat on his throne, his arms crossed over his chest lazily. Ginny had put back on her nightshirt and robe over top before she and Sorcha were dragged up from their cell to the Grand Ballroom. She took a shaky breath, trying to steady herself, and hoped this work. She knew Tom knew what she wanted. He could read her mind easily now. She also knew he wanted to hear her say it.

"I…I…" Sorcha's small hand slipped into Ginny's and she squeezed it, giving her strength. "I don't want you to kill any more of my friends."

He smirked as some of his Death Eaters, who were gathered to discuss war strategies, laughed. "Well, that's not something I can guarantee Ginevra. Not without some kind of…trade." She could feel his eyes on her body, making her face heat up.

Ginny forced her head up, forced herself to be strong. She looked him in the eyes and swallowed hard. "I will do whatever you want. I will marry you. I will be your Dark Queen. But…please don't let any more people die because of me, Tom."

He stood and stepped down to her from the raised platform on which his throne sat. "Like I said, I can't guarantee that."

She would have been a fool to believe he would have accepted such a bargain, but she had to put it forth anyway, to make it seem as if she were lowering her standards by settling for less. It was a silly game they played. He knew what she wanted and she knew what she had to do for it, and still they pretended to bargain. She looked down at Sorcha. "I want her safe. I want her to be treated well. She is my daughter now." Ginny's voice did not waver on the last part, but grew stronger, surer. "And she will be treated as such."

Tom nodded, thinking. "And in return, you will be my wife?"

"Yes."

He appeared to be contemplating, but she already knew his answer. "Slave!" Tom yelled.

Ginny noticed for the first time a young slave girl, younger than Ginny even, standing off to the side. Ginny remembered her from her time at Malfoy Manor, but the girl had changed a lot. She looked beaten and bruised and wore shackles and chains now to limit her movement. She was gaunt and wore but a few scraps of cloth on her body. Ginny knew it was because of the uprising. Those slaves that weren't killed were spared, but only because the Death Eaters could not stand to live without their free labor, and the few liberties they had had before were taken away for their disobedience. Ginny felt bad for the girl, who had a fearful look to her eyes, one she recognized.

"You will take Ginevra's daughter to the finest guest room in the house, one well-suited for a child. You will be sure Ginevra approves before leaving her daughter there with another slave who will ready her for the celebration. Then you will take Ginevra to my rooms and prepare her for our wedding."

Ginny almost choked. "Our wedding? You mean it is to be today? So soon?"

Tom smirked and stroked Ginny's cheek with his hand. "Carpe Diem, Ginevra. When you have waited as long as I have you learn to seize the moment. We will have the wedding ceremony at sunset tonight." Tom glanced around at the Death Eaters staring at him and raised his voice so they could hear. "You all will spread the word. The wedding will be this evening promptly at sunset. You will dress in fancy attire, of course, and notify your families. Men...welcome your new Dark Queen!" Tom pulled Ginny against his side, smirking. "You will treat her and her daughter as royalty and not harm a hair on their heads, do you understand me? And you will do well to make sure everyone knows of my orders, lest they wish to suffer my wrath. You are dismissed until this evening."

The Death Eaters ambled out of the room, murmuring to each other over the newest change Tom had made. Tom leaned down, his lips at Ginny's hear, his breath on her neck. "Tonight, my pet, you will see just how deep my love for you goes."

Ginny shuddered at the innuendo and quickly rushed Sorcha and the slave girl out of the room. She could only hope her plan would work.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

"And you are certain this is going to work, Malfoy?" Ron was leaning over a copy of Draco's blueprints, memorizing the floor plan of Malfoy Manor.

Draco nodded and ran his hands through his hair again, a nervous habit of his, tussling it up. "It's foolproof. We can't just storm the place or they might kill Ginny and her friends. That or Tom might hide them where we can't get to them. We have to infiltrate quietly and find Ginny and the girls. Then, once they are safe, the rest of the Order can attack. I don't care what you do to my father's home or the Death Eaters once she is safe in my arms again."

Ron didn't miss the way Draco said "my father's home" or the way he spoke of Ginny, but he nodded and dismissed it. "Ron, the mirrors are finished. This will allow you, Draco, and the rest of the group going in to rescue Ginny to talk to us outside. You each get one but they're small, so don't lose them." Hermione passed around hand-sized mirrors of different shapes and sizes, some crudely cut. They had had to go to drastic measures to create these, cutting up bathroom mirrors when they ran out of the women's pocket mirrors and charming them so they could interact between all of them. The charms had taken three days to perfect, even with five different Aurors and ex-professors from Hogwarts working on them.

During that time Draco had perfected his blueprints of Malfoy Manor, labeling all the spots he thought Ginny, Sorcha, and Fianait would be kept hostage, if they were kept together at all. He guessed wherever he found Ginny he would also find Tom. All in all, he had come up with three locations: the Grand Ballroom, Tom Riddle's rooms, and the dungeons. The group infiltrating the manor to save Ginny, Fianait, and Sorcha would split into three groups to go to these locations and search for them. Ron, McGonagall, and Hermione would go to the dungeons, Luna, Tonks, and Mad-Eye Moody would search Tom's rooms, and Draco, Lupin, and a bloke named Johnson would look in the ballroom.

Once Ginny was back in her arms and their friends were safe, Draco, and Draco only, and this he had specified, argued, and fought for for many long hours, would give the word that the Order could attack. They would move in, surround the Manor, and wait outside until he gave the command.

They had planned everything perfectly. Made sure everyone memorized their paths. Went over all of the Manor's defenses in his head and explained how to counter them without setting them off. Accumulated masses, in the hundreds, of Elves who camped outside the headquarters training and preparing for battle. He himself had practiced for hours, both with defensive and offensive spells as well as Muggle combat until his limbs were sore, his clothes dirty, and his body stinking something foul. Draco had worked every waking moment and sweated through sleep, always worrying over Ginny, his hate for Tom Riddle bubbling and boiling and rising under his chest.

The hardest part was the waiting. The waiting and worrying. He hated it. He wished he were numb, emotionless, like he had been before. Before he met Ginny. But now all he felt was ill-suppressed rage and hate. For his father, for his mother, for Tom Riddle. For this stupid war that took his girlfriend away from him. For the Death Eaters. Draco didn't know when he had become fire, he had always been ice, but now that it was burning, consuming his soul, he couldn't go back. He reveled in these new emotions. He let them burn, he fed off of them, grew stronger from them.

Finally, the day came. His heart thumping with adrenaline, his blood pounding hot in his ears, his heart burning with rage, Draco prepared himself for battle. He was ready.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Ginny stared at the Death Eaters gathered around her, dressed in their finest. It was exactly as the first time she had been here. This was where it all began, in this giant marble ballroom surrounded by elegantly dressed Death Eaters, the bright lights of the chandelier making her feel naked and exposed before these strangers. She had never felt more exposed than she did now in a gorgeous white dress of lace, pearls, and ribbons. This was where her new life had begun. This was where it would end.

Ginny's eyes searched the crowd for Sorcha. There she was, holding a basket of flower petals, wearing a bright yellow velvet gown. She looked beautiful. Ginny only wished she didn't have to be here to observe this.

The redhead slowly stepped forward when the wedding march began. Played on the organ as it was, it sounded dark, sinister, and foreboding. Ginny walked slowly, trying not to trip in the high heels or over the long train of her wedding dress, all the while holding a bouquet of roses such a dark red they almost looked black. It was quite a feat for a clumsy girl like herself. She stared at the floor before her from under the white veil that was pinned to her head with a delicate tiara. She truly was a queen now. It was every little girl's dream to get married to a lord in a fancy, overdone wedding. Just like the Muggle story Cinderella. It was too bad with each step her mind and body protested for her to turn and flee. But she couldn't. Not if she wanted Sorcha to live.

She reached the raised dais and Tom's throne. Another sat beside his. That would be hers. She was his Dark Queen now. As the man read them the traditional Wizarding Wedding Ceremony speech Ginny kept her eyes on the ground and tried not to think. Tom's excitement and his perverted thoughts for tonight would have made it impossible to think anyway. She could feel his leering eyes on her, looking down the low-cut gown at her cleavage and putting images in her head of what he wanted to do to her. It was so horrible she almost got sick on the floor.

The room went silent and Ginny looked up. Everyone was staring at her. "Ginevra, you have to say your vows."

"Oh…" She gulped, knowing this would seal the deal. After this there was no looking back. She stared at the giant diamonds on her finger and at Sorcha, who watched her with worry and concern in her eyes. Ginny smiled weakly for the little girl and took the wedding band, slipping it onto Tom's finger. She felt numb as she did it. "With this ring…I vow…to be your Dark Queen."

It was Tom's turn. He slid her ring onto her finger beside engagement ring. "With this ring I vow to protect you and your daughter from all harm."

It was finished. The rings light up brightly, filling the room and her eyes with light. The warm glow lit up Tom's face, making him look like an angel. All except for his eyes, that was, which were glowing red with lust. That sort of ruined the image.

The light faded and the Wedding Vow was completed. It was even stronger than the Unbreakable Vow because it lasted for the person's entire life until either they or their spouse died. There was no divorce as far as the spell was concerned, and one could not die by breaking the vow: they merely _couldn't_ break it. It was physically impossible for both parties involved. That was why most wizards didn't take Wedding Vows.

But Ginny wanted to be ensured Tom would not harm Sorcha or allow any of his Death Eaters to, and this was the only foolproof way. Still, it didn't stop her from feeling empty inside. She had never imagined her wedding would be like this: forced to a man she hated in order to protect a child's life. Ginny couldn't bear to think of Draco, of how much he would hate her for this decision. She didn't think she could handle that kind of pain.

"You may now kiss the bride." Tom turned to her, a triumphant smirk on his face. He had won. He arrogantly pulled her against him, crashing his lips to hers. She could barely feel him as he invaded her mouth with his tongue, could barely feel his hands on her body, could barely hear the crowd cheering. She felt detached from the world, as if she floated on her own in a little cocoon that protected her from the pain.

Ginny retreated into herself. Time seemed to pass so quickly in this hidden place deep inside. Numbly, she danced with Tom and ate cake and drank champagne until she truly couldn't feel anything, emotionally or physically. The aching in her heart dulled and she stopped thinking. She had barely noticed Tom was taking her away from the party until they had left the ballroom. A cheer erupted behind them. "Ginevra…You do not seem yourself today."

Ginny lifted her eyes to Tom. He swayed before her, multiplying into two and then molding again into one as her eyes went in and out of focus. "I fear I have had too much champagne." Ginny's voice sounded foreign to her.

"Come, we will go to our honeymoon bedroom. It's not as nice as my rooms, but it has the biggest bed and a balcony that overlooks the forest. I had it prepared with roses and candles and satin sheets for tonight. It's just down the hall. Do you need me to carry you?" He picked her up tenderly without waiting for an answer and carried her to the room, laying her on the bed. "Ginevra…" Tom whispered in her ear as he slid a hand along her body. "You have no clue how happy I am that you are my wife."

His hands began to trail up her legs under her dress, reaching for her garter. Ginny moved away from him quickly, her chest heaving. She felt the tears sting at the back of her eyes. "Tom…I…"

"_Ginevra_." His voice had a hard, warning edge to it. "I have waited so long for this moment. You will _not _evade me again."

He reached across the bed for her. "No!" Tom's eyes flashed red and she could see him growing frustrated. "No…I…I just wanted…I've never…I'm not ready…"

"I know, Ginevra, but I will be gentle with you your first time."

"No, I mean…I have to…go to the bathroom. I have to do something first…"

Tom chuckled. "You want to clean up first? Put on something more comfortable?"

Ginny nodded, her whole body turning a bright red. She had never felt so awkward in her life. Tom lounged back on the bed. "Do not keep me waiting long, Ginevra."

Ginny ran to the bathroom, shutting the door behind her and leaning against it. Her chest heaved and her blood pumped in her ears. She didn't want this…she didn't…but she had to. For Sorcha. For Draco. For the rest of the Wizarding world. Ginny was the only one that could tame Tom. She was the only one that could stop him.

She glanced over at the gilded mirror over the sink. She looked stunning. Draco would have loved to see her dressed in white for him. Her red hair had grown to her breasts and had become sleek and healthy; right now it was pinned up in an elegant bun with two little ringlets in the front falling into her face. Her body looked great in the form-fitting dress what with her breasts and hips finally returning to their normal size, though her waist stayed small and her ribs were still visible from the long year she had spent without food. Ginny's skin was flawless and pale and the dress and tiara, with its dazzling tiny diamonds, made her look like a doll or a princess. She wore very little makeup, just enough to bring out the brown of her eyes and the pink of her lips.

Yes, Draco would have loved the way she looked tonight. Draco…Ginny's heart gave a painful lurch. She was married to Tom now. She was his wife, his Dark Queen. But still…she could not forget Draco. She would think of him as Tom coupled with her. She would imagine it was Draco touching her, though his touch was so much gentler than Tom's. Draco's touch made her heart race and slow all at once. It comforted her and made her wiggle bashfully. His hands were cool but his touch made her burn like fire. No, Ginny would not let Tom take Draco away from her. Even if she never saw him again. Even if she died tonight. She would die with Draco in her heart, even if it was Tom invading her mind and body.

"Ginevra." She heard Tom calling her. Ginny took a deep breath and opened the door, coming out.

Tom lay on the bed naked but for a velvet cape draped around his shoulders. His eyes roamed over her body in question. "I thought you were getting undressed in there?" He lifted an eyebrow. "No matter. I'll have that dress off of you in a matter of seconds." He grinned, his eyes flashing. "Now get over here."

Ginny numbly climbed onto the foot of the bed, crawling over to him. He pulled her down on his lap, his hands resting on her hips. Ginny stared at the wall as she pulled out the pearl pins that kept the tiara and veil in place, letting her hair fall. She could feel Tom's arousal growing as her hair fell to her bare shoulders in thick curls. His hands slid up her body, one tangling in her hair while the other cupped her breast and he pulled her down onto him, kissing her forcefully.

She didn't fight back as Tom invaded her mouth. In fact, she let him, her tongue playing with his the way Draco liked it. She watched his eyes slowly slip shut as he was lost in lust for her.

Ginny's free hand, the one not holding the back of his neck so he couldn't pull away, slowly lowered to the edge of her skirt. She slid her hands under the many layers up to the garter wrapped around her right leg. Tom didn't suspect a thing. Ginny grabbed the hilt, slipping it out of the garter silently and from under her skirts. The rusty dagger felt strange in her sweaty hands, its twisted blade like a wavy ocean reflecting two big brown spheres back at her. She realized they were her eyes, those dark, deep, murky pools. Ginny lifted the dagger in her shaky hand. Her heart sped up, sweat trickled down her back. Tom continued kissing her, unaware. She closed her eyes tight and plunged it down at his chest.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Draco tried to keep his pace even and his footsteps quiet as he and his team walked down the marble hall to the ballroom's servant entrance. He could only hope no Death Eaters would be in there and that the slaves would not give them away. He didn't know if they were the same ones or new slaves even more afraid than his father's last ones. It was just a few more turns and they would be there.

Draco heard commotion up ahead and he turned the corner in time to see his father coming out of the kitchens with a slave girl who was trying to beat him off. The girl wore chains which his father pulled on to drag her along. Struggle and flail as she might, she couldn't fight the stronger man off of her.

"You bitch. Would you stop wiggling?! Barely even worth the trouble, you ugly slut." He shoved her against the wall, sticking his wand into her neck. "You had better behave or I'll kill you when I'm done."

The girl spit on him. "I'd rather die-"

Lucius slapped her hard across the face. "Good."

The rest of Draco's winded crew finally caught up with him. Draco motioned to them to stay hidden behind the corner and pulled out his wand, gliding silently across the floor to his father. He stuck his wand against the back of Lucius's neck, his body in the fighting stance. "Hello again, Lucius."

His father turned slowly, letting go of the slave girl, who fell away from them and ran down the hallway. Draco thought he heard her tumble into one of the Order members, but he couldn't be sure. Draco backed and arm's length away from his father, just out of reach, his wand still pointed at the man, this time between his temples.

Lucius smirked. "Draco, Draco, Draco. Come back to try to rescue your little Weasley bitch again, did you?"

"You will not speak of her that way, Father, especially not when I have wand pointed at you and the Killing Curse on the edge of my tongue."

The men circled in huge hallway. Draco didn't like the way Lucius was grinning, as if he knew something Draco didn't. "You came too late." Draco's heart stopped. "She just married Lord Voldemort a few hours ago. She's _his_ bitch now."

Draco glared at him. "You're lying!"

"Am I? Why else would we be having such an elaborate party?" Lucius twirled his wand in his fingers. "It's too bad I didn't have a go at her before. Why, he probably has her in a room right now making her scream her lungs out."

"Shut up!" The floodgate opened and Draco's burning rage poured out. "Stupefy!"

Lucius dodged the spell and cast the Cruciatus right off. Draco easily put up a shield to block it. "How unoriginal, Father. Couldn't you think of anything better? Relashio!" Sparks jetted out of Draco's wand, catching his father's fine robes on fire. Lucius was trying to put them out when Draco cast a full body bind.

It was amazing how easy it was too take down the man. Draco stepped over to him, stamping out his burning clothes. "I guess you shouldn't have taught me everything you knew, huh, Lucius?" Draco pointed his wand at the man's chest. "The question is, should I kill you quickly or let you die slowly?"

"Draco." He felt a hand on his shoulder as a familiar voice spoke his name. Draco didn't look up. He knew it was Snape. "It isn't worth it to kill him."

Draco felt the tears sting his eyes. He didn't remember crying since he was a little boy. "But…He hurt Ginny! He killed Maya and Blaise! Blaise was my best friend!"

Snape grimaced. "I know. But he's your father. And you're not a killer."

Draco lowered his wand. Snape was right. As much as he hated it, Snape was right. He wasn't a killer, and he couldn't kill his father, not when the man was unarmed and bound on the floor before him. Besides, Lucius didn't deserve such a quick death. No, he deserved something slow and painful.

Snape slowly pulled Draco away from the man. "Lupin, Johnson, you guys can arrest him." His partners stepped out from around the corner, the slave girl with them. She looked considerably calmer with Johnson's arm wrapped tightly around her and his shielding spell surrounding them. She shied away from Lucius as Lupin stepped over to tie him up.

Draco punched the wall and let his fist rest there as his breathing slowed. The pain in his knuckled helped to take the edge off of his anger, but only slightly. He leaned his forehead against the wall, thinking. Was what his father told him true, or just a lie to get under his skin? Either way, he had to find Ginny fast, and punching walls wasn't going to help.

Just then he heard a commotion and a yell. Draco turned in time to see his father rise to his feet and hit Lupin with a spell. The jet of light was yellow, not green, a spell Draco didn't recognize, but he could only guess if it came from Lucius's wand it would either maim or kill his old professor. Time seemed to slow. Snape and Johnson moved toward Lucius, trying to grab for his him. Draco searched for his wand and found it on his belt. He pulled it out, the curse leaving his lips before he could think twice. The jet of green light hit his father in the chest, throwing him back against the wall.

Lucius was dead.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Ginny felt a hand wrap around her wrist in a vice-like grip. She gasped, her eyes flying open. The dagger's tip dug into Tom's chest but did not puncture the skin. His strong hand held her wrist still. She wasn't sure if it was him or her that was trembling so horribly that the dagger shook.

Ginny lifted her eyes to Tom's and they stared at each other in shock. Long minutes stretched by in which they said nothing. Finally, Tom opened his mouth. "Ginevra…How…"

She caught a flash of her face in the dagger. It looked empty, emotionless. Detached. Like the face of a murderer. "I have lived with you for years, Tom. Did you think, in all that time, I wouldn't learn how to defend my mind against you?"

"But you…you never…when?" She had never seen him so shocked, so thrown off-balance. He was always used to being more powerful than her.

"I learned from Fianait. She trained me for hours on end. I couldn't block you out completely, but I could turn your attention away from my plans. You were so excited about our marriage you never even though to search my mind for a hidden agenda." She had said that all in one breath. Ginny forced herself to breath deeply and her voice to steady. "The dagger was given to me by an old woman I stayed with. It's supposed to slay werewolves," she smiled, "but it's just a normal dagger. No enchantments. That's why your Death Eaters didn't notice it when they searched Fianait, Sorcha, and I. I kept it hidden in a hidden compartment in Draco's robes that only he and I knew about. He told me to carry it with me everywhere, even to bed." Ginny lifted her eyes to Tom's. She was unsure of what to say now.

His face revealed his surprise. He seemed unable to accept the fact that she had outsmarted him. "But…how could your mind possibly be more powerful than my own? How could I not have seen this coming?"

"Because, Tom, you've always seen me as the little girl with the diary. You've always underestimated me, even though I grew up with you in my mind. You've always thought of me as the weak-willed girl that let you invade my mind and posses me. You never realized…I grew up, Tom. I grew stronger. In that cell, in the dark, I changed. I became someone else. If my family saw me now…" She laughed but her voice sounded dead even to her own ears. "They wouldn't even recognize me."

Tom nodded, seeming to accept this. "You're right, Ginevra, I greatly underestimated you. You planned this all out perfectly. But there is one thing you didn't prepare for." He smiled. "Ginevra, you can not kill me any more than I can you. You love me too much." He took his hand off of her wrist, allowing the blood to flow back to her fingers. Tom lounged back, his hands laced behind his head. "Face it, Ginevra, you can't do it."

Ginny stared at the dagger in her shaky hand, its point poised above his heart. It would just take one swift plunge to drive it through…but…was he right? Could she do it? Or did she love him too much? Because she did love him. She had loved him for as long as she had known him, and with him bound to her for years that love had only grown stronger. But she also loved Draco. Draco and Sorcha and Ron and all of her friends. But especially Draco.

The question was, who did she love more? Draco or Tom? She thought that answer was simple, but was it really? Tom knew her, all of her, every dark thought in her mind. And he accepted it all because he was dark just like her. But Draco…did Draco really love her? Was what they had just out of pity for her?

No. No, Draco did love her. She knew it. She believed it. She had to, or she would crumble and fall apart. She would sink in her misery like the ancient city of Atlantis sank into the ocean. No, Draco loved her, and she loved him. She loved him more than anything. More than Tom.

But could Ginny kill him? Was she even capable of it? After everything he had done to her, after how much he had made her suffer? Could she dig the dagger into his chest? She thought of all the deaths. Her mother, father, five brothers. Alex. Maya. Blaise. And now Fianait. So many deaths, so many graves, and there were thousands others. And there would be more. If she didn't end this now, more people would die.

Ginny stared at Tom's face, at his arrogant smirk. He thought he knew her. He thought he had won. He thought she couldn't do it. "You're wrong," she whispered, "I can." His eyes widened. She plunged the dagger down, threw all of her weight into it. He reached out to stop her but he was too slow. The blade made contact with his skin, pierced into it. She could feel his skin rip through the hilt of the dagger, could feel it tear into his flesh, slide between his ribs, pierce something solid. His heart. Blood spurted out, spraying them both. It covered her clothes and face. He gasped in pain, clawing at the bleeding wound. Ginny pulled out the dagger and stabbed it in again. And again. And again.

Tom coughed and began to choke on the blood. It poured out of his mouth and sprayed out of his chest in time with his heart beats. It covered the bed in a red stain that quickly grew larger with each stab. There was so much of it it didn't look red but black. It wasn't at all how she thought blood would look.

Tom gasped in pain, his eyes going in and out of focus. "Ginevra…" he whispered, his face shocked and…sad. Were those tears streaming down his cheeks? He reached a hand up, the blood smearing her cheek. "Ginevra…you killed me…it hurts…"

She held his hand to her face. "I'm sorry, Tom. I'm so sorry." Ginny tried to stand.

"No…Ginevra…please…" He tried to sit up but the pain made him collapse to the bed again. "Please…give me one last wish."

Ginny nodded. "Anything, Tom."

"Hold me. Hold me in your arms." She lifted him into her arms and cradled him in her lap, his head on her shoulder. Ginny pulled the dagger out to let the blood flow more freely so he would die quicker. He did not fight but merely lay there, his lifeblood pouring out of him. She had never though the body could hold that much blood. He smiled up at her, touching her face again. "You are…so beautiful. Like an angel. A warrior angel." His eyes slipped shut. "Ginevra…I…love you."

Ginny rocked him in her arms long after his last breath left him. "I love you too, Tom."


	29. The End

A/N: Final Author's Note for this story. Thank you for all of your reviews, as they really helped to motivate me to finish this story (and in a timely manner). xTearsx This is bittersweet, saying goodbye to this story. But all good things must come to an end, and no, there will not be a sequal to this story, sorry. I hope you all enjoyed reading my story just as much as I enjoyed writing it, and I hope you stick around for my next project, which I'll be starting immediately. It's going to be even better and darker than this one, and I think you all will enjoy it just as much. Until then, Ciao!

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Draco slowly opened the door, peeking his head into the Grand Ballroom. From the kitchen entrance he had a perfect view of the crowd, Tom Riddle's throne, and the huge wooden doors that were currently open to allow guests in an out as they pleased. After noticing the throne was empty, Draco quickly scanned through the crowds, even though he knew Ginny wasn't in here. Tom must have taken her somewhere else.

Draco pulled out the pocket mirror from his cloak. "Luna. You there?" The familiar girl's face appeared in the mirror. "Are you in his rooms yet?"

"We're here, Draco. They're empty. Nobody's been here."

Draco's heart dropped. This wasn't good. "She's not here, either. Have you heard from the others?"

Luna nodded, an anxious look on her usually worry-free face. "They got to the dungeons fine but they had to knock out a guard. There were a few prisoners down there, Muggles mostly, but the girls weren't there."

"Damn!" Draco cursed. Where were they? He had planned everything perfectly. He knew Tom would keep Ginny in one of these three places, yet she wasn't here. Where else could he have taken her? He couldn't think of any other bedrooms as nice as his where he would take her to…Draco didn't even want to think about that.

And then, as if on queue, silence descended on the room. The music stopped playing, the people quit dancing, and everyone turned to stare at the main entrance. Draco craned his neck to see. Others seemed to be doing the same.

Ginny. There she stood in front of the huge oak doors, unmoving. Draco stared along with everyone else at her appearance. She was wearing a wedding dress that looked like it had seen better days. It was splattered and smeared with blood, Draco wasn't sure if it was hers or someone else's, and torn as if she had been in a struggle. Her hair was a red mess, falling into her face, which held an expression of extreme confusion and shock. In her right hand was the dagger the old lady had given them, it too covered in blood. The dagger tumbled from her loose hand, clattering loudly in the deathly quiet room. Ginny lifted her eyes, staring at the crowd before her. She whispered "Your Dark Lord…is dead…" and collapsed to her knees.

Draco found himself running though he didn't tell his legs to move. The sounds that passed his ears were a jumbled mixture of gasps of shock, declarations of outrage, and threats of death. He cursed anyone that got in his path as he forced his way through the crowd, throwing a shield around Ginny. She didn't seem to notice that there was a mob of angry Death Eaters surrounding her trying to kill her.

Draco held up his mirror as he ran. "I think now would be a good time to attack!" With that he dropped the it, not caring where it landed or what happened to it, and dashed the last few meters to Ginny. Just as he was reaching her he heard cracks of Apparations. The Order began attacking the Death Eaters and chaos ensued as a bloody battle began between the enemy groups. Draco scooped Ginny up into his arms, checking her over quickly to make sure she wasn't hurt. "Let's get you out of here."

She seemed to snap out of her daze, at least briefly. "No! Sorcha! Sorcha is around here somewhere!" She struggled to free herself from his grasp, her eyes wild. Draco cursed himself for forgetting about the little girl and her mother.

"Are they together?" Ginny looked confused. "Fianait and Sorcha? Are they together?"

She just shook her head sadly. "Draco…Fianait is dead."

He didn't have time at that moment to mourn or feel angry. The shield he had put around Ginny was weakening. Draco strengthened it and then began to scan the crowds for the little girl. It was so chaotic he didn't think he would find her.

Until he saw a flash of yellow, that is, as a little girl in a fancy dress ducked under a table to hide. Draco ran with Ginny in his arms, crossing to the far side of the room. He slid under the table feet first, nearly running into the small child who crouched quivering against the wall. As soon as she saw him, the Elven girl threw her arms around Draco. "It's okay, you're safe. Now, let's get the hell out of here."

He held both girls in his arms and Apparated away just as the table was blown to smithereens by a wayward spell.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Five Years Later

The Order was victorious, in that battle at least. They took Malfoy Manor and seized any Death Eaters that did not flee. Draco's mother, unfortunately, was one of the few who escaped, leaving Draco, sole Malfoy heir, the entire Manor. He gladly turned it over to the Order of the Phoenix, which converted it into the newly established Order headquarters and used the dungeons to lock up captives. Draco wanted nothing more to do with the place and its horrible memories.

While the Order was cleaning Malfoy Manor out and searching it for valuables and traps, they uncovered a massive grave of bodies. Fianait, Blaise, and Alex were all found buried there among other nameless victims. Draco and Ginny took the bodies for burial beside the official graves for Ginny's family, which she had redone professionally after Draco received his inheritance. However, it seemed Ginny too no longer wanted to live in her old home. She gave Ron and Hermione and their two children the Burrow and all of its property, including the small cemetery that now held nine graves. In that first year after the battle Ron rebuilt the entire place, making it smaller and a bit tidier than it had been before.

Ginny, Draco, and Sorcha, whom they officially adopted after the two were married, bought their own property on the coast by the ocean. It was a little house made of stone set on a rocky cliff that overlooked the pounding ocean. They bought all of the surrounding land, including a small, private beach, ensuring they would not be bothered by the Muggles that lived in the nearby town. Ginny and Draco, after a quiet year of recovery, bought a library in town and began to run it as part of a mutual decision to live a quieter, less hectic life.

Their lives finally began to return to normal. Sorcha, over time, overcame her grief over the loss of her mother and grew up to be a healthy little girl. Ginny, who took much longer to cope, finally began to live her life again. Sometimes, rarely, Draco would notice a haunted look in her eyes. She would wake up from a nightmare or become jumpy and nervous around Draco or he would catch her talking to herself. He knew, in the back of her mind, her demons still haunted her; they would for the rest of her life. But she got better. They all did. And they were happy. And being happy, being free, it was a wonderful feeling.

Draco pulled up to their small dock in his newest gift for Ginny. Today was her birthday and he had bought her a sailboat, something she had always wanted. It was a beautiful boat, small, just big enough for their family, and pristine. The white sails flapped in the wind and the handles of the wheel were polished to perfection. Custom painted, in swirly, shiny black letters, was Little Fire on the side. It was Ginny's name in Elven, and he knew she would appreciate the gesture.

Sorcha ran down the dock to meet him. "Daddy, Daddy! Wow! What is it?!"

"It's a sailboat. Muggles use it for recreation. I bought it for you and your mother. Where is she?"

The seven year old smiled, her bright face lighting up. She had grown up to be a beautiful child with brown hair so dark it looked black and brilliant blue eyes that shone like the ocean in the moonlight. When she smiled, the whole world seemed to brighten. It was no wonder her name translated into Radiant in English.

"She's up on the porch napping. She said she was sleepy."

Draco ruffled the little girl's hair. "Well, why don't you go get her down here. Then we can play pirates on our new ship." He held up a pirate hat and fake sword he had bought for her at the Muggle toy store. The little girl turned and ran up the beach as fast as her small legs would take her.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Ginny stood in the darkness of a huge cave, a place she had seen many times before in her nightmares. Around her Death Eaters were gathered, masks covering their faces, as they kneeled before a throne. In the throne sat an apparition, so faint it would have been invisible but for the purple-black aura of evil and power that surrounded it. The chaotic creature stared right through her as did the Death Eaters—in these dreams, she was merely a spectator.

"My Lord…" A woman bowed before the stone throne, holding out a box of some sort. "We have it. One of the items you were looking for."

"What is it?" The voice was familiar, yet foreign. It sounded as if it came from far, far away. From another world, or another dimension, perhaps. From the world of the dead, she knew now.

"Her blood, Sire. Ginevra Weasley's blood."

He seemed to flicker before coming into focus sharper. His eyes focused on the box. "How?"

"Well, we still haven't found her, My Lord, but her blood, we found it on one of the torture devices we used in Azkaban. It is one of the last of the reagents you were looking for."

"Place is beside…others." The image flickered in and out of sight and the voice faded. "…else do we need?"

"We have your body, Sire, preserved as it was the moment you died. Healed, of course. Then we have the dagger used to kill you, the rings you wore when you were wed, and now her blood. All we need now, My Lord, is the girl herself and a willing sacrifice. And you know any of us are would be honored, My Lord Voldemort."

The apparition smiled. "Good…find her. Find my Ginevra."

The woman did not say anything for a while, but from the way her body was hunched over, she looked apprehensive. "My Lord Voldemort…that is the hard part. We can not seem to find her at all. None of our tracking spells worked. The Order is too strong for us to attack any of the people close to her in order to gain knowledge. We can't even step foot in England, Sire. We don't know where she is or even if she is still alive."

Tom didn't say anything for a long time. "Of course she is still alive. I would not be here, even in spirit form, if she were dead. It is only our link that keeps me eternally stuck between life and death."

"Yes, well, we don't know where she is, but we are trying-"

"Try harder!" He suddenly became more visible, more solid, in his anger. His eyes glowed completely red now; they always did in these strange dreams. "Find her and bring her to me. I can wait forever, I can return her to her youth when she is again in my grasp, but if she dies, then I too go with her."

"Ye-yes My Lord Voldemort! Yes!" The woman groveled at his feet some more before scrambling away from him.

Tom stared into oblivion, as if he were looking not into this world but another. "Ginevra, Ginevra," he murmured. "I _will_ find you again. I _will_ be restored to life. And when I am, we _will_ be together forever."

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

"Mommy? Mommy, wake up." Ginny groggily opened her eyes, trying to focus. A child's face came into her vision. "Mommy, are you okay?"

The woman sat up slowly, groaning in pain, and rubbed her head. When the world finally stopped spinning she chanced to look up at her daughter. "What's the matter, sweetheart?"

Sorcha worried her bottom lip. "You were having a nightmare again, Mommy."

"Was I?" The nightmares were rare, usually she went months without seeing them, but she still hated for her daughter to see her returned to her old state.

The little girl nodded. "You were sweating and moaning like you were in pain. And your brow got all creased like this." Sorcha demonstrated with her own face.

Ginny laughed, pulling the little girl into her lap. "Well, I'm all better now, thanks to you. Now, what were you going to tell me?"

The child jumped up, grabbing Ginny's hand. "C'mon! Daddy got you a present for your birthday." Then the Elven girl began to practically drag her down the beach to the dock.

Ginny gasped, staring in awe at the gorgeous sailboat that sat tied to her dock, and even more so at the incredible, handsome man who rested against the mast without a shirt on, his lean, tan muscles glinting in the sun, his blonde hair almost as bright as the sun's reflection off of the water. He leaned over the edge, pulling Ginny onto the boat as Sorcha climbed up the ladder.

"Draco, it's beautiful."

"I thought you would like it." He grinned that sexy smile that still made her knees shake, his stormy eyes smoldering. "Happy birthday, Ginevra Molly Eithne Weasley Malfoy." She snorted at the use of her full name. His voice lowered to a whisper. "I have another gift for you tonight."

Ginny grinned, kissing her man full on the lips. He spun her around, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing the top of her head. As the boat began to glide along the water, they stared out at the ocean, the sun setting over the horizon. "So, do you like it?"

She smiled up at him. "It's no happily ever after…but it'll do."

End


	30. Author's Note

Author's update! Wiccan98 on Youtube made a video of chapter 24 of Silent Secrets!

http://www[dot]youtube[dot]com/watch?v=U6WCQEp3C4o

Also, Sibzlipz has done a trailer for Silent Secrets!

http://www[dot]youtube[dot]com/watch?v=1vCGk1KTXfo


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